


Like Father, Like Son

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Complete, Dark Luke, Dark Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader Needs a Hug, Darth Vader Redemption, Emperor Luke Skywalker, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Imperial Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker Angst, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Murder, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Sad Ending, Sith Luke Skywalker, Skywalker Family Drama, Torture, Whump, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Battered and beaten over Bespin, Luke takes Vader’s hand, setting off a chain reaction. Following Luke’s descent into darkness, father and son plan to overthrow the Emperor.(OR - where Luke does some shit and it’s an uh-oh for everyone.)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Sheev Palpatine & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	1. Fallen Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first Star Wars fic! I hope that this is something people actually want to read, because I’ve had so much fun writing it!  
> Keep in mind this TW - torture at the end of this chapter. Each chapter will be around ~3K words, and my plan is to post every Sunday! I am almost finished with Chapter 3 of 7 at this point, so let’s hope I don’t burn out.

Chapter 1 - Fallen Light 

Luke Skywalker was stunned. 

He had dreamed of meeting his father... but here he was, staring the man down. And he had not been what Luke expected. 

Anakin Skywalker was a good man who was killed at the hands of Lord Vader, Ben had said. But as he stared into the tinted red lenses of his father’s helmet, he wondered what could’ve changed. 

Anakin Skywalker was a hero. A Jedi Knight. Darth Vader was... a monster. 

“Search your feelings, you know it to be true.” Vader said, his voice a steady, calm baritone. 

Luke cradled the stump of his arm closely to his chest, the lifeless stub agonizingly painful. 

He knew it was true. He had known as soon as the word’s came out of Vader’s mouth. 

He let out an anguished cry. “No!”

“Luke,” his father began, “You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny.” 

Luke stared up, still desperately cradling the end of his arm. He grasped at the vane holding him up. 

“Join me, and together, we can rule the galaxy as father and son. Come with me. It is the only way.” Vader held out his hand, expectantly. 

From his perspective, he had 2 choices. Join his father, or fall into the depths of Cloud City, likely dying. 

But really... what would be so bad about joining his father? Luke knew his father had done some horrible things. It wasn’t a question about if he had. He tortured Leia and Han. He killed thousands of Jedi. He killed Ben...

But in the moment, Luke couldn’t find it im himself to care. Luke always wanted to be with his father. Ben Kenobi and Yoda lied to him. And for what? Enraged at the thought of his two previous Jedi masters, he grabbed his father’s hand. 

\- - -

The walk to the shuttle was silent except for Vader’s respirator. 

When Luke took his father’s hand, he wasn’t thinking about his friends, or the Alliance. But now that he wasn’t dangling over the edge of a pit that felt bottomless, it was all he could think of. 

He came to rescue his friends. Leia’s yells still rang through his head. “Luke! Luke, don’t! It’s a trap!”

His stomach churned. 

“Father, I-” 

“Your friends have already made it.” 

He stared straight ahead, relief flooding his senses. 

“Luke, your friends are no longer on your side. They are enemies of the Empire.” 

He furrowed his brow. “But-” 

“No buts, son. When the time comes to it, you must be prepared to do what is right.” 

Luke closed his mouth, lips in a firm line. 

“Leia Organa, Lando Calrissian, a wookie, and two droids made it onto the _Millennium Falcon_. Han Solo has been taken by a bounty hunter.” 

“A bounty hunter?” Luke asked incredulously. “You gave my best friend to a bounty hunter?” 

Vader made a noise that sounded like a sigh. “I needed to get you here somehow.” 

Luke scoffed. “Are you serious?” 

“Han Solo is safe. He is encased in carbonite.” 

“That could’ve killed him!” Luke said, angrily. 

Vader didn’t respond, until a few seconds later. “What did… Owen and Beru... what did they tell you about me?” 

“They said that you were a navigator on a freighter. A fantastic pilot,” Luke huffed, still upset about Han. 

Vader looked straight ahead, not glancing down at Luke. “And Obi-Wan?” 

“You were a Jedi. Killed by Darth Vader.” 

“Did they talk about your mother?” 

Luke whipped his head up, excited to hear about her. “Nothing. Can you tell me about her?” 

A beat of silence passed. “Her name was Padmé.”

Luke looked at Vader expectantly, but he didn’t continue. 

They made their way on an expansive landing platform. Dozens of stormtroopers were milling about, standing to attention immediately when they heard Vader’s distinctive breathing. 

The Captain walked towards them. “The shuttle is ready for you, my Lord.” 

The ramp lowered gently. Vader, with Luke behind him like a shadow, strode onto the shuttle. 

With a shudder, the ship took off. 

Luke couldn’t believe what had happened. He abandoned everything he stood for… just because of a silly infatuation with the idea of family. 

When Owen and Beru passed away, it felt like a piece of his heart had been ripped out. He was an orphan before, but when he saw their charred skeletons in front of the remains of their homestead, it felt cemented. His family was gone, every single one of them. 

And then Vader had offered him a hand and wonderful words, the ability to be with his family again. How could he refuse? 

How could he refuse the father he had dreamed of for so long? 

_But you found a family_ , a part of his mind whispered. _You found a family with the Alliance, with Leia and Han and Chewie_. 

How could his found family take him back after a betrayal of such magnitude? Whether he liked it or not, he was with his father now. Luke grabbed Vader’s hand above the pit. That was an unavoidable truth, now. 

And the Alliance hated Vader. Leia hated him. Countless people had lost their families to him… 

And he was the biological son of Vader. They wouldn’t want him to be a part of the Alliance if they knew that, anyway. They would think him Vader’s mole, his direct contact in the Alliance. 

Luke clutched his stump of a hand. The pain had evened out, mostly, but it was still horribly painful, a sharp burn accompanied by a dull throbbing. 

His whole face hurt, and he was sure it was covered in bruises. His legs were sore. 

He might’ve dueled Vader and lived, but he didn’t win. Not even close. 

People were walking around him. Water was shoved into his hands, as well as a few pills. “Take those.”

He did, and he was shepherded into a smaller room on the side. 

“Lay down,” the same person ordered. 

Luke did so. 

Someone put something on his hand, and something cold and wet was being put on his face. He felt out of it. 

He looked up at the person speaking. He was a middle aged human man, with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed as a medic. 

Ah. He was being treated. He felt stupid for not realizing sooner. 

“How are you feeling?” The medic asked. 

“Dazed. Sore,” Luke answered, honestly. 

“That’ll be the painkillers. You’ll get drowsy soon.” 

The medic was right. His eyelids were unbelievably heavy. 

He felt them slide shut, and the world went dark. 

\- - - 

He woke up in a dark room. His bed was unbelievably soft. In a way, he hated it. 

On the farm, coarse sand and a rough mattress was what he slept on. With the Alliance, it was small military grade cots. 

This was a large mattress he sunk into, silk sheets and a plush down comforter made of feathers wrapped around him. 

He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the room. A large viewport was to his right, curtains covering the most of it, but he could see the bright blue of hyperspace outside. 

It wasn’t a big room, but it was spacious. Luke stood up, stretching. His body ached dully, especially his wrist. He looked down, surprised. 

He had a prosthetic. It didn’t look finished. Bare dark metal in the rough shape of a hand met his pale wrist jarringly. He flexed his hand experimentally. The fingers moved the way they should’ve. Excitedly, he spent a few seconds testing the capabilities. The metal fingers weren’t flexible like his real ones, but it was better than nothing. 

He made his way over to the three doors in the room. 

Opening one, he noticed an empty closet. The second door wouldn’t open, and the third opened to a dark grey fresher. 

So, he was still a prisoner on an Imperial Ship? It was to be expected, but it still stung somehow. He couldn’t leave the room.

He walked into the fresher. Hung on the door was a freshly pressed black uniform. Noticing he was still in the disgusting outfit he was wearing with Yoda on Dagobah, he quickly took it off, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. He decided to take a shower before putting on the clean clothing. 

Almost giddily, he noticed that there was water on tap. 

He had only taken a water shower twice with the Alliance. Not only were sonic showers cheaper, they were faster. But coming from a desert planet, he couldn’t resist. 

Freshly clean, he put on the new clothing, grateful there were no rank markers or Imperial logos. He pulled on the black boots, straightening his collar, when he heard the door open in the other room. 

He stuck his head out, but he didn’t need to see who it was. The mechanical breathing alerted him quickly. 

“Father,” Luke greeted. 

“Luke,” Vader responded. “I’ve come to teach you something before we reach the Imperial Center.” 

Luke perked up, excited. “What is it?” 

“I need you to be able to hide certain thoughts in the presence of the Emperor.” 

Ah. The treason they were planning then. Overthrowing the Emperor. 

“He can read and manipulate people with uncanny skill. With the Force, you can hide certain things from him.” 

Luke nodded, determined. “And how would I do that?”

“First, think of all of the things you don’t want him to know. Bring them to the front of your mind.” 

Immediately, unbidden images of Han and Leia, Owen and Beru, and certain Alliance plans jumped to the forefront of his mind. His training with Yoda on Dagobah, and his precious hours spent with Ben Kenobi. He thought hard about the treasonous plans his father and him had. 

“Imagine these thoughts are something deeply precious to you. Bury them deep in your mind, behind everything else. Don’t call upon these thoughts unless absolutely necessary. Lock them up, and keep the key in a place the Emperor would never look.” 

Luke concentrated as he did that. Sweat beaded his brow. 

“And hide even that safe behind countless mental walls. Build them up in your mind, brick by brick.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Luke asked. 

“Call upon that frustration you feel. Build up those walls with the Force. They may not be physical, but they’re real.” 

Something snaked in behind his eyes, in his head. It slithered, a slimy disgusting darkness. 

It chipped at the walls he had just built with relentless determination. 

It wasn’t painful, per say, just deeply uncomfortable. 

“Is that you?” Luke asked, nervously. “Stop doing that.” 

“The Emperor will not stop just because you ask.” 

With a shuddering gasp, Luke felt the wall fall in his mind. 

“I found chinks in the wall,” Vader said, sounding almost proud of himself. “It was constructed well, but you need to focus more on those small holes the Emperor would surely find before myself.” 

Luke glared. “You didn’t need to take it down.” 

“Bring the thoughts you want to protect the least forward,” Vader instructed. 

Luke frowned. “I don’t have anything I don’t want to protect back there.”

“Fine. Bring everything forward except our plans, and the memories that are the most delicate.” 

He focused on leaving the thoughts of Yoda and Ben, the Alliance plans that the Emperor could **_not_ ** know about, and the treason behind. 

Everything else was forward. Even the most precious memories he had on the farm, Beru stroking his hair, even the best memories he had with Han and Leia… 

“Build a wall around those. As strong as you can make it.” 

“Why did you have me bring these forward if I was just going to add more shields?” 

Vader shrugged. It was a strange expression to see in his body language. “More security. If the Emperor breaches your wall, and he sees precious memories, he won’t go looking for more.” 

“Oh,” Luke lamented. He was not feeling comfortable with the Emperor seeing these thoughts either. 

“We will reach Imperial Center within the hour. You can join me on the bridge.” 

\- - - 

Coruscant - no, Imperial Center - was a beautiful planet, Luke thought. Lights covered the planet, making the whole thing shine like a jewel, surrounded by the pitch blackness of the cosmos. The view from the shuttle was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

Luke was afraid to meet the Emperor. He could almost sense his shadowy presence all over the planet. It covered it like a thick veil.

Luke was afraid he couldn’t shield his mind well enough. 

He was afraid that the Emperor would think him useless and kill him. He was afraid of the Emperor’s reaction. 

But most of all, he was afraid to swear his allegiance. Luke thought again about his flimsy shields. The Emperor would see right through them, and see that he was not sure of his loyalty. 

A hand rested on Luke’s shoulder. He jumped, looking up. It was attached to his father, who gave him a light squeeze, likely sensing his anxiety. 

“It will be alright, Luke. Your defenses are strong and well built. I have no doubt the Emperor will be impressed.” 

The shuttle was bustling with activity. People - his father couldn’t speak his mind. Luke knew what his father really meant. _Not to worry, my son._ Luke imagined he would say. _The Emperor will remain in the dark about our plans._

“Am I really that transparent, my Lord?”

“No.”

Luke sighed, dropping his shoulders, flexing his new prosthetic hand. “You’re right. Everything will be fine.” 

The shuttle made its way to a landing platform in front of the palace with little to no resistance. Luke’s real hand felt clammy, his neck sweaty with anxiety. 

A large escort of Royal Guards showed them to the palace. 

_Everything will be fine_ , he told himself again. _Things will be fine._

He held that thought close as he walked through the palace. The doors to Palpatine’s throne room were towering well above Luke’s head. 

He was struck with vertigo, nausea rising in him. The doors opened, slowly, revealing the shriveled form of the Emperor. 

Luke had seen plenty of holos of the man, but seeing him in person was much worse. His face was gnarled, eyes a pool of molten gold, shining from behind his cloak. 

“Young Skywalker,” His voice rattled. 

Luke bowed his head. Ugh, if the rebellion could see him... 

“Vader...” The man croaked. “The Executor is still docked and waiting for you. Young Skywalker will stay... but I still have need for you in finding the Rebellion.” 

Vader bowed. “Yes, my Master.” 

And Vader swept out of the room. 

Luke’s hand was clammy. His forehead broke out in a cold sweat. 

“I can sense your fear, Skywalker. I can sense your anxiety...” 

Luke gulped, looking down. 

“Swear your allegiance to me, boy.” 

Luke got down, kneeling, much like he’d seen others do. His nose almost touched the ground, hands above his head. 

“I swear allegiance to you and the Empire, my Master.”

His heart pounded. 

“ _Liar_.” 

The word stopped his heart in his chest, a cold chill sweeping down his spine.

He finally felt the presence in his head. Unlike his father’s, which was noticeable and slimy, the Emperor’s was silent in comparison, ambiguous and hard to notice. If his father’s was a krayt dragon, the Emperor’s was a small insect, buzzing quietly. It had breached his first wall. 

“No! No! I’m not lying!” He cried, desperate to be believed. He knew it was not true. The Emperor knew it too. 

Palpatine cackled. “You still feel loyal to your petty rebellion?” 

Luke looked up at the disfigured man. “No! Never!” 

It was like time slowed. There was a crackle, and then an unbearable agony. A scream ripped through his throat, and the world went dark. 

\- - - 

He awoke in a brightly lit room. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, dimly aware of a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t go away and a dull ache where his heart was in his chest. His eyes were blurred, seeing only vague shapes. 

He let out a groan, attempting to move his arms. The left was strapped above his head, and he started to panic. His right arm dangled. They took his prosthetic hand off. The open wound burned. 

His feet dangled just above the floor, his toes barely touching the ground. His shoulder ached from holding his body weight up. 

Just over the ringing of his ears, he could hear a heart monitor. His pulse was much too high for what was natural, but he could only assume it was from the panic. 

He tried, almost desperately, to escape from the shackles holding his arm, but with his almost useless limb at his side, it didn’t make much of a difference. 

“I’ve decided to record all of these sessions.” A voice croaked. _His_ voice. The crackling in his ears only made his voice worse. 

The Emperor walked closer and continued speaking. “Perhaps your friends in the Rebellion would find these recordings... interesting.” 

“W-what are you going to do?” Luke cursed the way his voice shook. 

Palpatine ignored the question. “I’ll ask you every day, just before I send the holo to your ‘Alliance,’ if you swear your loyalty to the Empire. If I sense a lie... you will stay in this room. But if you tell me you swear your allegiance to me and you mean it, you may leave. You can go to the medcenter, and then go to your new room in the palace.” 

A second voice, one Luke didn’t recognize, spoke. “The recording has started, your Majesty.”

Luke turned. The person who spoke was only a dark grey blob. 

“Excellent... when I’m done with the boy, you can revert to more... traditional means of questioning.”

Agony. It was all he could think of. Someone was screaming. Was it him? It had to be. 

It felt like someone took an ice pick to his head, digging in his brain and shattering his skull. He knew it was the Emperor. His presence wasn’t an insect before, Luke understood. It was the tip of a sharp blade, when he was looking for faults in his walls, but now it was like someone sunk the entire sword inside his head and hacked at whatever they could get their hands on. The Emperor wasn’t focusing on the shields this time, though.

It was unbearable. It hurt, oh, it hurt. “Get out!” He screamed.

It was the only thing he could think of. The pain… and how he hoped and wished it would end. How he would do anything for the Emperor to withdraw his blade. Luke was only dimly aware that he was even speaking. Tears dribbled down the sides of his face. 

“Get out of my head!”


	2. Slow Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke is tortured, and the Alliance thinks him dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge TW for this chapter. Most of it is torture from Luke’s perspective. If that is something that will bother you, you can skip to the next chapter. 
> 
> And yes, I know I said I was going to update every Sunday, I’ve just been so excited to share this with the world :D

Chapter 2 - Slow Descent 

“We’ve intercepted a transmission from Coruscant.” Leia spoke, her voice full of authority. 

A codebreaker began to speak. Leia couldn’t remember her name, but she had seen the girl multiple times in meetings like this. “Frankly, I’m suspicious of the contents. It seemed whoever sent it wanted us to intercept it and decode it. It was one of the easiest things I’ve ever done.” 

Mon Mothma nodded. “Start the transmission.”

The room darkened, the screen turning on. The image flickered for a moment, but the entire room gasped when they saw what it was. 

It was Luke. He was blinking heavily, staring at someone just out of frame. There was a beeping heart monitor. His arm was shackled above his head. His shoulder looked very dislocated. Her stomach churned when she noticed his right hand was missing. 

A voice rang out. “The recording has started, your Majesty.” 

Luke turned his head to look at whoever spoke, but they were out of frame too. 

“Excellent... when I’m done with the boy, you can revert to more... traditional means of questioning.” 

The voice was horrifying. Was that... the Emperor? It had to be. Who else would be referred to as “your Majesty”?

And then Luke screamed, thrashing against his restraint. “Get out!” He cried, tears falling down his face. Nothing noticeable was happening to him, but obviously something was very wrong.

“Get out of my head!” He sobbed. It felt like hours passed, but it could only have been a few minutes. 

And he went still for a moment, breathing heavily, glaring at his torturer. A thin ribbon of blood found its way to his chin from his nose. 

“What do you think? It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to do that to someone’s mind.” 

Luke glared again, staying silent.

“I may have pushed a little hard... you should have no physical effects from what just happened. Do you want it to stop? Just say the words.” 

“I swear my allegiance, your Majesty,” he hissed. His voice was defiant, strong. 

“Liar.” 

He was screaming again. 

Leia stood up, feeling her eyes burn and her chin wobble. “I need to leave.” 

Everyone turned to look at her. Mon Mothma was the first to speak up. “Yes... you can leave.” 

The screams seemed to only get louder as she walked out of the room, finally succumbing to her tears. 

\- - - 

Crackling blue energy surrounded Luke. He seized in his restraints, each nerve on fire. He didn’t have the energy to scream anymore. 

“It’ll be the last time I ask this for today, boy. Do you swear your loyalty to me?” 

Luke coughed. He tried to speak, but no words would come out. “I do!” He tried to say. A low groan escaped his mouth when he opened it. 

“What a disappointing first week,” the Emperor sighed. “I come in every day for you, and nothing has changed. Continue, Sergeant,” He ordered, gesturing to the dark grey blob. 

The Blob bowed lowly. “Yes, your Majesty.” 

Luke coughed. His throat was sore. “Please,” he tried to say, “Make it stop.” 

It didn’t work. No sound came out. He heard the door open over the beeping heart monitor and the fuzzy ringing in his ears. 

The constant pain in his chest, poor eyesight, and bad hearing had become almost… comforting. A reminder to when things weren’t so bad. He wasn’t sure what happened to make these things happen, but he was grateful he couldn’t hear his own screams. 

The Blob walked closer. Luke shuffled to get away from it, but it wasn’t working. He was stuck to the wall, after all. 

“Here, Skywalker. I have some food for you,” the Blob said, his voice kind and sincere. 

Luke hated the man. He was two sided. The side that beat him, injected him with countless drugs. And the side like this. The warm, caring side. Luke would be almost convinced that it was two separate people, wearing the same color uniform, but it couldn’t be. Their voices were the same. 

Luke lifted his head slightly. He didn’t want to be force fed. He would rather be fed by a tube than be subjected to something this embarrassing, especially in front of the recorder. But it was all he had access to. 

The man lifted the spoon. Whatever was on the plate smelled delicious. It probably tasted delicious, too. He tried to ask, “What is that?” 

Maybe the man understood, because he answered. “This is what the Emperor had for dinner last night.” 

Luke tried a taste, and he was right. It tasted as good as it smelled. It was heavenly. 

“The Emperor wanted me to inform you that he feels deeply sorry about what you’re going through, and he sends his condolences with this meal,” the Blob lamented. 

Luke tried to roll his eyes. Did he manage it? He didn’t know. 

The man clicked his tongue. “He told me to tell you he doesn’t feel good about what he’s done. The rebels would’ve done much worse if they got their hands on you anyway. Where are they, by the way? Certainly not rescuing you.” 

Luke pondered for a moment. He didn’t know what the rebels would’ve done had they gotten their hands on him. He was the son of Vader. A sworn enemy of the rebels. And the Blob was right! Where were they? His found family, what were they doing to help him?

A wave of fury passed through him. Something smashed on the wall, but he wasn’t sure what. It sounded like glass. 

Dimly, he hoped it was important. It would be nice to have smashed something nice against a wall. 

“Here. Have some water, too,” The Blob ordered, voice comforting.

The water tasted better than anything ever had in his life. It was room temperature, but it felt the same as the treat of ice cold water on Tatooine. Certainly, it was as refreshing. 

“I’ll be back in the morning, Skywalker.” 

Luke hoped he wouldn’t be.

\- - - 

Dazed, Luke woke up. He hadn’t been allowed sleep, and certainly all the drugs in his system wouldn’t let him, so he went into some kind of trance instead. 

“Hello, boy,” _he_ croaked. “I’ve come back from my absence. I’m sorry I couldn’t come by for a week. I was off planet.” 

“I…” Luke gasped, “Don’t… care…” 

“You will learn respect and obedience, _boy_ ,” the Emperor scowled. “I’ve come to ask today. Do you pledge yourself to me?” 

Luke glared at the Emperor as best as he could, with his new black eye. “I swear my Allegiance to you, your Majesty.” 

“Lies,” Palpatine hissed. The familiar blue lightning shot from his hands. 

Luke screamed again. The pain was familiar now, but it almost hurt worse every time it happened. He was expecting what he remembered, and somehow, the unbearable agony would be even worse. 

The onslaught stopped. He felt himself seizing, eyes drooping blissfully closed, until he was violently awakened by a prick in his arm. 

He hadn’t even noticed the droid was there, but with the force of his rage, the droid smashed on the wall of the other side of the room. 

“Very good, young Skywalker!” The Emperor praised. 

Luke felt, with complete embarrassment and revulsion, proud to be praised. He preened under the praise. 

“Thank you…” he groaned, “Majesty…” 

“Continue,” the Emperor barked. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

The door opened and closed. The sound was beginning to become familiar. 

“Good, Skywalker. You know…” the Blob began, “If you join the Empire, you can get out of this room. Clean yourself up. Clear up your eyesight. Doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Luke nodded, unthinkingly. “Yes…” 

“You could finally get a prosthetic for your hand!” The Blob cooed, voice honeyed and happy. “You could go to the medcenter and treat your burns! You could do countless things, if you just tell the Emperor the truth about wanting to join us. Things will be better for you out there. I promise.” 

He felt his eyes drooping shut again. The Blob roughly smacked him on the cheek. 

“Listen, Skywalker,” he hissed. “Things can get a lot worse for you, and I would be happy to make them worse for you. It’s only the end of your second week in here, understand? I could keep you here for years.” 

Luke closed his eyes, desperate to go into some sort of trance again. 

\- - - 

“Hello, young Skywalker.” 

“Hello… Majesty…” Luke said groggily. 

Embarrassingly, the Emperor’s visits were becoming his favorite part of the day. Something to break up the monotony. 

He hated the man. He hated him more than he had ever hated anyone. And he hated the unbearable Force lightning, and the hacking at his mind, but it gave him something to tell him how long he’d been here. It had to have been close to a month. 

“I come asking the same question.” 

“Please… Please let me out of here…” Luke mumbled. “I’ll do what you ask…” 

“I ask you to tell me you swear your allegiance to me.”

“I do!” He cried, as loudly as he could. “I swear myself to you, your Majesty!” 

The Emperor clicked his tongue. “How long will it take for you to be honest, boy?” 

“I’m not lying!” Luke howled. 

And there it was. The familiar, sharp presence of the Emperor. 

It buzzed, slowly and quietly in his mind. It didn’t hurt yet. 

“Please… don’t…” 

Luke screamed as the Emperor figuratively sunk his blade into his skull. It felt like he was hollowing out space in his brain, cutting and sawing whatever he could get his disgusting hands on. 

“Stop it!” Luke screeched. “Please!”

Nothing would stop him, Luke knew. He didn’t know why he bothered. 

Finally, his presence was gone. Luke panted, tears streaming down his face. He could handle Force lightning. But this… this was a different breed of evil. 

“I want you to think about what the Empire has to offer you.” 

The door opened and closed. The Emperor must’ve left. He didn’t stay long. 

“Imagine it,” the Blob crowed. “Status, power… anything you could ever want, the Emperor would give to you.”

Luke did imagine. Imagined what he could gain. What could the stupid Rebellion give to him over all that a man could want? He made up his mind. 

He didn’t need the Rebellion. He was part of the Empire. _His_ Empire.

\- - - 

He opened his eyes. His body felt unbelievably comfortable. He was warm... 

The room was dark. He blinked, filled with an unbelievable happiness when he noticed he could see, for the first time in what must’ve been weeks. His shoulder was sore, but it wasn’t in pain. He could breathe. 

He was in bed, linen sheets the finest luxury he could ask for after being shackled to the wall. 

He looked down at his hands, noticing with glee that he finally had his prosthetic back. It looked even better than he remembered. It still wasn’t pretty, a dark metal, but as soon as he moved his fingers, he found he didn’t care what it looked like. 

He touched his face. His mouth and nose was covered with a mask. But he could breathe...

What happened? He... he was struck by lightning again. The worst it had ever been. He told the Emperor he would be loyal.. and he meant it. 

A voice cut through his thoughts. 

He could recognize it anywhere. It sent a wave of happiness through him. 

“You’re awake?” 

The breathing of his father’s respirator was loud. 

“I’m awake, Father.”

\- - - 

“Leia...” Wedge said, tears running down his cheeks. “He’s... he’s dead.” 

Her blood ran cold. “What?” 

“They’ve been sending us transmissions every day... this last one...” He drew in a shaky breath. 

“I need to see it.” 

Blindly holding onto her hope may not have been a good idea. But it was all she had, hope. 

Leia strode towards the holoprojector in her room. Wedge put the chip in. 

Luke was in a much worse shape than the first, and last, video she watched. He was in the same position. His arms and legs were covered in... what looked like electric burns, and his nose looked broken, face covered in blood. 

“You know, we’ve received word that they’ve gotten these transmissions. They’ve gotten one every day. They’ve seen everything,” a voice called. It was a warm voice, like it cared about everything Luke had gone through. 

Luke didn’t say anything. His eyes were glued to the floor. His expression was indescribable, eyes downcast and unseeing. He looked out of it, drugged and exhausted. 

“They’ve received many transmissions of one of their own being tortured, and they don’t care. The rebels don’t care about you.” The voice said, compassion seeping through it. 

Leia felt more tears pool in her eyes. “I care, Luke...” she whispered. 

Luke coughed, blood splattering all over the floor. His expression remained unseeing. 

“The rebels don’t care,” The voice spoke again. 

“The rebels don’t care...” Luke repeated, still staring at the floor. His voice was ragged. 

“Good, good... The rebels don’t care about you. They would’ve sent a rescue mission by now.”

“They would’ve sent a rescue mission by now...” Luke said, his voice unbelievably quiet and haggard. 

“We couldn’t!” Leia cried. “You’re in Coruscant!” 

“Excellent... send for the Emperor.” The man barked, his voice changing from that honeyed tone into something cold. 

Luke coughed again, but then retched a few seconds later, blood spilling from his mouth. 

Leia could hear the door behind the camera open. 

“The rebels don’t care, do they?” The Emperor croaked. “They left you to be tortured.” 

“The rebels don’t care... they left me to be tortured.” The first real expression crossed his face. One of anger and hatred. It chilled her to see him like that. 

Someone was walking behind the camera. Luke’s eyes widened as a man approached. He obviously squirmed, trying to get out of the man’s sight. His hair was dark, and he was in a grey uniform. He released the restraint holding Luke up. He fell to the floor, letting out a groan. 

“Do you swear your allegiance?” The Emperor wheezed. Leia thought she could hear a smile in his voice. 

“Swear my allegiance?”

Luke hesitated a bit too long. Lightning shot from somewhere in the room. Luke screamed. He writhed on the floor. His body was smoking. 

“I…!” He screamed, his voice shaking, weak with effort. “Swear my allegiance to the Empire!” He screeched. “I swear!” 

And then he collapsed, eyes rolling in the back of his head, the heart monitor flatlining. And the video ended. 

Leia held her hand to her mouth. Her eyes burned. 

Wedge sobbed, ejecting the data chip and holding it close to his chest. 

\- - - 

Having been released from what he now knew was a medical center, Luke entered his new chambers. They were in the palace, near his father’s. The luxury of the place made Luke scoff. Sidious was so vain. 

Luke looked in the mirror. The bottom half of his face was covered with a small respirator. He frowned. He looked almost like his father. The top half of his face looked… well… different than Luke would’ve expected. 

His blue eyes were cold, like an icy pit, and the left side of his face was covered with small, branching scars. He touched them with his left hand, the one that had survived his encounter with his father.

He could still almost feel the electric current under his skin when he touched it. Palpatine... the name sparked rage within him. If it wasn’t for Palpatine, he wouldn’t be wearing the respirator. If it wasn’t for Palpatine, his face would not be scarred like that. He could see what he looked like writhing on the floor, singeing his hair, stopping his heart and making his lungs cry and beg for mercy... 

He watched the holo. He didn’t recognize the man in it, and he certainly didn’t recognize the man in the mirror... the man whose every breath was a challenge, burning his lungs... the man who now has a pacemaker regulating his heart...

The mirror exploded with the force of his rage. Luke pulled his hood over his head and stalked out of the room. 


	3. Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke goes to the planet Ossus and finds an unexpected visitor.

Chapter 3 - Into Darkness

Luke loved flying, but not like this. 

The blur of hyperspace was all he had been seeing for many hours, the coordinates guiding the ship rather than his hands. 

His mission, the first one he had ever done for the Emperor, was to visit the Jedi Temple on the planet Ossus and bring what remained of the teachings there to the Emperor. It wasn’t going to be a hard mission, but the Emperor would trust him more if things went well, so Luke was pleased to accept. The Emperor handed him one of Vader’s spare lightsabers, and sent him on his way. 

The hurried beeping of the controls told him he had finally reached his destination. The familiar jolt of exiting hyperspace comforted him. 

The planet was a rich orange. The readings on his ship told him the atmosphere was breathable, but with Luke’s new permanent mask, he didn’t need to worry about breathable atmospheres anymore. 

Getting his ship ready for descent, he began his scan for the temple on the surface of the planet.

He didn’t need the scanners to find it. The place shone brightly, like a beacon in the Force. The dark inside hissed at the blinding light, but Luke soaked it in. It felt good. 

He landed just on the outskirts of the temple. A short walk would bring him exactly where he needed to go. With a sigh, he pulled his hood over his head, beginning his walk. 

The temple was in complete ruins. It was sad to see the place as such, he thought, as he inched ever closer to the destroyed building. 

He walked through the wide entryway. The air felt… different here. Even he could tell. It was charged with something, something that set his nerves alight and filled him with an overwhelming sense of calm. 

He stopped in his tracks. He... felt something. 

No... not something. Someone. 

Their force signature was bright and strong. And they felt... familiar, somehow. 

His legs were moving before he even knew where he was going. He needed to find that person, and he needed to do it quickly. 

The temple was more of a labyrinth than anything. How anyone managed to get anywhere, he was unsure. 

The halls all looked the same, but he could sense he was gritting closer. 

Taking a sharp turn, he bumped into the person with the bright Force signature. 

She was tall, young, and beautiful. In her arms, she carried a book and a glowing blue cube. He immediately knew those were what he was looking for. 

“What are you doing here?” The woman asked. 

Luke looked at her once again. She was a Togruta, probably in her mid thirties. Her lekku were long and her skin was a soft orange color. Her montrals were not as pronounced as other Togruta he’d seen, but she looked very impressive. 

“Why do I feel like I know you?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“The Force works in mysterious ways, young one. Again, why are you here? This is an ancient temple. You can’t just waltz in.”

“Oh. My Master sent me,” Luke blurted out, cursing himself for his honesty. “He’s looking for Jedi teachings. Are you a Jedi?” 

“No, no. I am no Jedi. Who is your master?” 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” He babbled, unthinking. “Obi-Wan Kenobi is my master.” 

The Togruta shuffled, narrowing her eyes. Luke didn’t like being under her watchful gaze. Immediately, he knew something was off with her. 

“What is that cube?” Luke asked, trying to maintain the facade. 

The Togruta tightened her grip. “It’s a Jedi Holocron.” 

Two things happened simultaneously. The Togruta dropped the Holocron and the book, landing just next to her on the floor. And she pulled out two lightsabers from her cloak, both igniting quickly. 

Luke cursed his stupidity. Messing up his first mission for Sidious was not in the plan, and this would not make him look good. 

Luke quickly grabbed his father’s borrowed saber, igniting it just before the stranger could slice him in half. The crimson blade sent shadows across the entire hallway. 

She narrowed her eyes when she saw the red color. She ran towards him, striking relentlessly. He was not prepared for her skill with a lightsaber. 

With heightened agility, she jumped over his head, landing just behind him. 

“Who is your real master?” She hissed. “Obi-Wan died three years ago.” 

The sabers clashed. Sweat beaded Luke’s brow. “Vader is my master.” 

The woman stumbled for a second, her eyes widening, but it was just a second too long. The saber cut through her left arm, just below the elbow. 

She let out a scream. It made his stomach clench, but he also gained a sick satisfaction. He laughed, the sound muffled by his mask, but the irony of cutting off someone’s hand? 

She swung wildly with her second saber, but Luke easily parried and disarmed her. 

He picked up the two sabers now on the floor, tucking them into his cloak. He took the book and the holocron, and he hauled the woman to her feet. 

“Now, will you kindly inform me what your name is?” He asked, sweetly. 

He pulled her alongside him, one hand holding her by the upper arm, and the other holding the book and cube. 

She held her head high. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll just get Vader to tell me.” 

There was that brief flicker of surprise and despair again, before she spoke. “Ahsoka. My name is Ahsoka.”

“Well, Ahsoka! I hope you’re excited to see the Emperor on Imperial Center!” Luke said, voice full of fake happiness. “I’m sure he will be very pleased that I’ve brought him a Jedi.”

“I told you before,” she scoffed. “I am no Jedi.” 

“We will let the Emperor decide that.” 

\- - - 

Luke was anxious. With his hand on Ahsoka’s upper arm again, other hand carrying the cube and the book, he led her towards the throne room. 

The door opened. Vader and the Emperor were speaking in hushed tones. Conversation stopped when Luke entered the room. 

“My Master,” Luke said, kneeling on the floor, forcing Ahsoka to kneel with him, “I have the Jedi teachings you’ve requested, as well as Jedi Ahsoka.” 

Luke opened his eyes. Vader was looking at the Togruta, and she glaring up at him. 

“Excellent!” The Emperor said, clapping his hands together. “I believe this means you are due for a promotion!” 

Luke preened. “You think so, my Master?” 

“Drop the girl and kneel before me.” 

Luke did so, immediately. She fell to the floor with a thud, unable to catch herself with her missing hand. He put the cube and the text on the floor below his Master. 

“Lord Vader, watch Padawan Tano,” The Emperor said as he cleared his throat. “But you, boy… You are strong in the Dark Side of the Force. I will teach you more… after my test.”

Luke was surprised. A test? He had no idea what the Emperor could be planning. “Of course, my Master. Thank you.” 

“Bring him out,” The Emperor ordered his guards. 

The guards, dressed in crimson robes, brought in a man. He had his head held high, with dark hair, and a wrinkled grey uniform. 

“I’m sure you remember Sergeant Durane.” 

Luke didn’t, actually. The man looked completely unfamiliar. 

“Is this really necessary, your Majesty?” The man asked. And Luke’s heart stopped in his chest. 

The Blob. Furiously, he looked up at the Emperor, and back down at the man. That voice had been haunting him for weeks. 

“I’m afraid so, Sergeant. Kill him, boy. Kill him, and your path to the Dark side will be cemented,” The Emperor cackled. 

Luke pulled his father’s spare lightsaber from his belt, igniting it. He stepped closer to the man, hesitating when he was in range to kill him. But Luke had never killed a man like this before. 

The Empire would argue he was one of the most successful mass murderers in recent history, after he’d blown up the Death Star with hundreds of thousands of people on it, but that was different. A shot in self defense. Here, he would directly take a blade to a person. 

The thought sent a shiver of anticipation up his back. 

“Don’t hesitate, boy. Wouldn’t it feel good to kill the man? After all he’d done to you? He chained you to a wall, left you there for a month…” 

Furiously, Luke swung, anger at the Emperor beyond anything he could ever feel for this Sergeant.

The man’s head rolled to the floor, stopping at his feet. Luke felt delighted pleasure seeing his body sink to the floor, his head no longer connected to his body. 

“Very good!” The Emperor clapped his gnarled hands. “Kneel before me, and become my apprentice.” 

Vader walked closer to the Emperor, “But Master-! The Rule of Two!” 

“An outdated relic, don’t you think? Rise, my boy,” Palpatine said, standing to his feet. His voice rattled, magnified by what sounded like hundreds of voices. “Rise, Darth Lachus, and take your place beside me and Darth Vader!” 

Luke - no, Lachus - stood up proudly. He walked towards the Emperor and his father. “Thank you for this opportunity, my Master.” 

“Lord Lachus, take Padawan Tano down to the Detention level. I authorize you to be in charge of the interrogation. She will know something, I am sure of it.” 

Vader looked down at Ahsoka. She held her head up high, as Lachus escorted her out of the room. 

“I guess this is goodbye for now, Anakin.” 

The doors closed behind them. 

Lachus scowled at her from behind his mask. “How did you know Vader’s name?”

“He didn’t tell you?” She asked. “Anakin Skywalker, the man that Darth Vader took over, was my Master.”

Luke stared at her dumbly. “No. I wasn’t even aware that Lord Vader had a Padawan.” 

“Lord Vader didn’t have a Padawan. Anakin Skywalker did,” she said, bitingly. 

“I don’t understand what you mean. They’re the same person. I am still the same person I was… before…” Lachus looked down at his hands. Was he, though? He didn’t recognize the man he saw in the mirror. 

“My Master would never be someone as cruel and vile as Vader. He was killed at the hands of that monster.” 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi killed Anakin Skywalker. Or, he was at least just as responsible as Vader was for Anakin’s death,” Lachus hissed. “Or did Obi-Wan forget to mention that little detail before he was brought to justice?” 

“What are you talking about?” Ahsoka asked, looking up at him, as they entered an empty elevator. 

Lachus rolled his eyes. “Did you ever wonder why Lord Vader is in that life support suit?

“Of course I wondered,” She said, as if it was obvious. 

“Kenobi left him to die on the planet Mustafar. He cut off all of his limbs and left him to die in lava,” Lachus said, angrily. “I have seen the memory for myself.” 

And he had. Truthfully, his father would never have shown him the memory, but the other person involved in the duel had no qualms about it. 

Lachus was tired, headed back to his room in the palace from a day of training when he felt his presence. 

_ Turning his head to look at the shimmery form of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lachus sighed. “What do you want, Ben?”  _

_ “I want you to reconsider-!” _

_ Lachus laughed hollowly. “Reconsider? Reconsider what? Rejoining the terrorists who abandoned me to be left at the Emperor’s mercy?” _

_ Obi-Wan sighed. “No, Luke, I mean reconsider the path you’ve chosen. The Darkness will dominate your destiny if you allow it to.”  _

_ “You don’t get to lecture me, Ben. You couldn’t live with your own failures, so you isolated yourself on Tatooine. Where were you when I needed you? When he did this to me?!” Luke snapped, gesturing to his face. “ _ **_You_ ** _ are responsible for Anakin Skywalker’s death. Not Vader.”  _

_ Obi-Wan physically recoiled. “What?” _

_ Luachus laughed again. “Oh, he told me all about it. How you left him to die on Mustafar? You killed Anakin Skywalker better than the Emperor ever could’ve, better than Vader ever would.”  _

_ “That’s not what I-!” _

_ “What you meant to do? Did you not seek him out to murder him in cold blood? You killed him, Obi-Wan. You killed him like you killed me. Like you left me for dead. Why don’t you show me what happened on Mustafar, Kenobi. Make things easier for the both of us.”  _

_ Obi-Wan drew a deep breath. “Perhaps I should.”  _

_ And he did.  _ **You were the chosen one!**

_ Lachus staggered as he felt the memory. Anguish, despair, hopelessness… All of the emotions Ben Kenobi felt.  _

_ Lachus almost laughed at the irony of it all.  _

“Obi-Wan left him to die. Like he left me to die,” Lachus hissed, yanking Ahsoka forward out of the elevator. 

“Obi-Wan is dead! How could he have helped you?” Ahsoka cried. “It is not his fault!” 

“Really?” Lachus snorted. “Has Obi-Wan never appeared to you as a ghost? It’s his favorite thing to do. He should die, and stay dead. He abandoned me, when I needed him most. His new student, me, the one after Anakin, he abandoned to be left for dead!” 

“What did they do to you?” She huffed. “Obi-Wan would never take a student with such… darkness!” 

“What Obi-Wan did to me?” Lachus seethed. “He left me to be tortured for a month! Look at my face!” He snapped, wildly gesturing to the scarred quality of the left side of his face. “The Alli- The Rebellion abandoned me! Abandoned me like Obi-Wan did!” 

The two of them stopped in front of a large steel door. “Enjoy your stay,” Lachus growled, shoving her into the room, “Ahsoka Tano.” 

\- - - 

The Rebel leaders gathered around the circular table. Leia clenched her fists below the table, uncaring. She didn’t want to hear some stupid report. There were better things to worry about. The love of her life was frozen in carbonite and her best friend had just been murdered. 

But she kept her calm mask. Whatever report this was, it must be important. 

“One of our spies in the Palace should be comming us any second,” Mothma began. “His last transmission told us he had very important news.” 

The room sat in bated breath for a few seconds, when the com chimed. Mothma answered immediately. “We were told you have important information to deliver?” 

“Yes, my Lady,” the spy said. “I’ve managed to record what I found the most damning. Currently, I’m positioned in the detention block, and we had an unexpected visitor about an hour ago.” 

“Play the recording,” Mothma said, to no one in particular. But, a few seconds later, the recording was playing. 

A hooded figure was walking down a dingy hallway. He was slim, and very slight, standing next to an entire squad of stormtroopers. 

“I need to speak to whoever is in charge down here,” The boy spoke. His voice rasped, and he breathed like every inhale was a challenge. 

A man immediately stepped forward. “Yes, Lord Lachus? What is it you require?” 

“Don’t you get sharp with me! You know why I’m here. Are your men looking for her?” The boy, Lachus, croaked. 

The man in charge gulped. “Y-yes, milord! All of my best men are on the job!” 

“Your best men obviously aren’t good enough. I need Ahsoka Tano alive, and I need her  **_now_ ** !” 

Beside Leia, Mon Mothma gasped. But the recording continued to play. 

“We are doing all we can, Lord Lachus!” 

Lachus raised his hand. The man swayed on his feet, dropping down to the floor before he went still. Rasping breaths escaped the man’s mouth, but he went silent in seconds. 

“Listen closely,” The boy said, turning towards the spy and the person next to him. 

His appearance caused the whole room to gasp. The boy continued speaking. 

“You are all lucky my father is not the man in charge of finding Ahsoka Tano, or you’d all be dead. Vader is not so kind and merciful as I am. And find that prisoner, or all of you will die, just as he did.” Lachus moved the dead body with his foot. “Dismissed!” 

The recording fizzled and cut out. 

“What happened to that man? Did you see his face?” Someone asked. Leia couldn’t tell who. She stared blankly at the screen. 

The spy shuffled. “I need to leave. Quickly. I am still supposed to be looking for the prisoner.” 

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Leia said, bowing her head as the spy began to hang up. The room turned to chat amongst themselves, until there was a different figure, with a different voice on the comm. 

“Well,” the voice rasped. “I certainly expected treachery, but not from someone here in the palace!” 

The room snapped to attention. The cloaked figure could only be the very same one they had seen on the recording. 

He reached up to take off his hood. His face was disfigured, covered in scars, a mask covering his eyes and nose. His hair was horribly singed, eyebrows almost completely missing. 

Leia suspected he would’ve been handsome, had he not been mutilated. 

“Ah, the Rebellion!” He said, pretending to be surprised as his predatory eyes swept the room. “Wow, you’ve even got all of their leaders! You must have some very important information.” 

“L-Lord La-Lachus!” The man stammered. 

“Oh yes, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself. Darth Lachus, at your service.” He took a neat little bow. 

“You might want to start evacuating. I’ve already sent my father the coordinates of your little base there, and frankly, it would suck if you couldn’t get out. Luckily, he was in the system!” 

Alarms began to blare. 

“I will kill every single one of your spies,” Lachus growled, raising his hand. A crack was heard, and the spy fell to the floor in a heap. “I will find every single one of them, and they may not be privy to such a merciful death. And I will specifically find you, Leia Organa, and I will hurt you in such ways that you will be begging to die.”

The comm ended with a cheerful beep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I don’t actually think these things about Obi-Wan and Mustafar, or most of what Luke says in this chapter, but I thought it would fit my narrative beautifully.


	4. Desert Shade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Lachus visits Tatooine.

Chapter 4 - Desert Shade

Lachus yawned as he left hyperspace just above Tatooine.

Seeing the planet now made his stomach jolt unpleasantly. It filled him with emotions he couldn’t describe. Nostalgia, maybe, along with a deep, suffocating sadness. 

Inhaling the stale air of his TIE Advance, he began his descent.

For a very long (and very painful) second, he almost considered visiting the farm. But that’s not what he was here for. He didn’t think he could stand to see it, anyway. 

He remembered their bodies as they tried to crawl from the fiery homestead… the horrible despair he felt that seemed to drown him… 

Lachus’s hands shook. He tried to steady them so he could land his ship. What would Owen and Beru think about him now? He just murdered 3 men! The Sergeant, the spy, and the man in charge of the detention center! 

With a pang, he realized he didn’t even know those men’s names. He didn’t know what kind of family they had… if they had a partner waiting for someone who would never come home… 

He shook his head. Lachus couldn’t afford to think about that, now. He needed to rescue his best friend. 

The landing was nowhere near smooth, but it was as good as it could be when he was trembling like he was. 

He clambered out of the TIE ungracefully and began walking down the sandy canyon. 

Lachus had never visited the Hutts when he lived on Tatooine, only hearing horror stories about the palace. Angrily, he thought back to all of the things Jabba had done that Luke had been privy to knowing about. 

_ A desperate knocking at the side of the homestead jolted Luke out of his thoughts. Who would be here so late?  _

_ At age 12, he couldn’t open the door by himself. “Uncle Owen!” Luke called, trying to get a glimpse of the stranger. “There’s someone at the door!”  _

_ Uncle Owen made his way up to the door hastily. When he opened it, Luke was greeted by something that would forever haunt his nightmares.  _

_ It was a pink Twi’lek girl. She couldn’t have been older than 18. She was half naked and covered in dark magenta blood.  _

_ “Help me,” she groaned in broken Basic. “Please…”  _

_ Luke noticed with horror that her arm was almost hanging off of her elbow. Why would it have been cut off?  _

_ “Luke,” Uncle Owen said, quickly. “Get your aunt and find me the medkit. Hurry!”  _

__

_ Luke jumped out of his shocked stupor. “Aunt Beru! Aunt Beru!” He screeched. “There’s someone here who needs your help!”  _

_ He almost ransacked the rooms of the homestead, trying to find the kit. When he finally got back to Beru and Owen, the Twi’lek was laid on their table. Her face was unbelievably pale.  _

_ “What happened? I'm gonna need you to stay with us, okay?” Beru soothed kindly as she severed the rest of the girl’s arm off. The girl’s expression didn’t change. “Please, tell us what happened.”  _

_ “Jabba…” she moaned, quietly. “Jabba… device in… arm…”  _

_ And it suddenly clicked in Luke’s mind. She was an escaped slave. She cut her arm off trying to get the tracker out.  _

_ She died, on the table. It was the most horrible thing Luke had ever been witness to. She just stopped moving, stopped responding to questions… and her eyes went dark, and Luke could almost feel her fading away.  _

Lachus felt his face twitch involuntary. From anger, disgust, he was unsure. And Jabba had one gigantic bounty out for his best friend… which Jabba would need to pay for. 

He pulled his father’s rental lightsaber from his belt, hiding it in his sleeve.

He made his way to a large metal door. He rapped on the door, nervously.

As expected, a camera shot towards his face, rough Huttese accompanying it. 

Lachus understood the basics of Huttese, but he had a hard time following the man’s quick speech. 

He responded with what he practiced. His accent was rough, but understandable. 

“My name is Darth Lachus,” he began. “I am with the Empire, and you will let me in. I need to speak to Jabba. I mean no disrespect to his Excellency.”

The person on the other side went quiet for a moment before the door creaked open. 

Lachus was greeted by a pasty skinned male Twi’lek. “Follow me,” he said in Huttese. “His Exaltedness, the mighty Jabba, awaits your presence.”

The Twi’lek started to walk, Lachus striding confidently behind him. 

The room went quiet as he entered. 

“Mighty Jabba,” Lachus began, still speaking Huttese, “I humbly request the release of smuggler Han Solo. I will pay you a hefty sum of money if you accept.”

The entire room erupted in laughter. 

“No amount of money is worth my favorite decoration!” Jabba boomed. 

Lachus looked towards the wall, finally noticing the hunk of carbonite hanging on it. His anger flared. He schooled his expression into something neutral. 

“This is a warning, Jabba. Free Han Solo.” 

Jabba bristled. “Are you threatening me? The answer remains no.”

Lachus smiled behind his mask. An excuse to finally get rid of the cancer that haunted the entire planet. The spice dealer that ruined countless lives, the slave owner that directly led to the death of that woman on his kitchen table… 

He dropped his lightsaber from his sleeve, igniting it. Lachus gripped the handle violently, relishing in the feeling of the soft humming beneath his fingertips, capable of so much destruction and damage. 

He didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. 

And Jabba’s head was rolling across the floor. His body slumped to the floor. 

The monster inside him purred. The room was quiet for a few long seconds. 

But then, blaster fire rained from around the room. Lachus deflected each shot with ease. Bodies dropped. 

He cut through countless guards, countless bounty hunters. It almost didn’t end. But the entire room was soon dead, minus most of the slaves. 

Except one person. Their boots clicked against the floor, stepping over a few bodies. 

Lachus turned towards the man. Mandolorian, by the looks of him. “Who are you?” Lachus asked, disinterested. 

“Boba. Boba Fett.” 

“Oh, of course. Boba Fett. I’ve heard all about you,” Lachus said, moving his lightsaber as if he were talking with it instead of his hands. 

“You have, have you?” Boba asked. 

Lachus could swear he’d heard Boba’s voice before, but he wasn’t sure where. “Yeah. Bounty hunter. You’ve worked with my father a few times. Shame, he kind of liked you.” 

With a grunt, he shot forward, swinging his lightsaber at his neck, hoping to sever it. Boba jumped out of the way. 

He fired his blaster many times, but Lachus deflected them. “I expected more from a bounty hunter of your status,” he taunted. 

Boba lunged forward, hand on a large vibroblade, but Lachus caught him with the Force, strangling the man. 

Lachus hadn’t killed someone this way before, but he now knew why people liked it. Hearing them choke and spit, grasp for a hand that would never let them go… it was exhilarating. 

Lachus hadn’t noticed Boba’s hand reaching for a blaster on his hip. Luke dropped the man unceremoniously, raising his lightsaber, but he was a second too late. The blaster bolt grazed the top of his shoulder. Lachus hissed at the pain. 

Boba continued firing, a barrage of endless bolts, Lachus deflecting each shot that came close to him. 

Boba Fett pressed a button on the side of his wrist, and Lachus knew what was about to happen. A small rocket ejected from his wrist. The blast hurt his still healing ears, and he almost dropped his saber to try and cover them. 

The far wall collapsed. 

The air filter wasn’t working as well in the rubble of the palace; Lachus began to cough almost uncontrollably. The feeling burned his lungs, and he doubled over, hands on the ground. 

Was this the end of Darth Lachus? He asked himself. Not even a week with the promotion, and things had already gone this poorly, to a bounty hunter, no less? 

Unable to see in the rubble of the exposed building, Lachus didn’t notice the man lunging at him until a moment too late. Boba Fett had that same large knife, swinging it wildly at Lachus’s hand. 

A loud sizzle was coming from his prosthetic hand. A cut found its way down the middle of the machinery, and Lachus’s saber was on the floor. 

Boba Fett was panting heavily. Lachus continued to violently cough, but he Force pushed Boba back into the far wall, the part of the building that managed to survive. 

Loud screaming interrupted his thoughts; many slaves were chained to either the wall or each other. They scrambled wildly away from Boba Fett, but he didn’t seem to notice them as he stood up. 

From his belt, Boba grabbed a sizeable flamethrower. With powerful heat, flames were spilling out of the nozzle. 

Boba walked closer, flames licking Lachus’s face, but Lachus jumped, inhuman agility guiding him, landing behind Boba. He Force grabbed his lightsaber from the floor. 

Adrenaline took over. Lachus wildly slashed at the flamethrower, and Boba let out a scream. Lachus cut his hand off. 

Boba kicked wildly. A blow hit Lachus in the stomach. He fell back, slumping to the floor. 

Lachus heard it before he saw it. A loud sound of an engine. Boba Fett turned on his jetpack. 

He flew close to Luke, trying to pick him up, kicking wildly. 

Lachus swung above his head blindly. 

Boba Fett fell apart in two pieces next to him. The top half of his body let out a whine. Lachus kicked it as hard as he could, fury making his eyesight go white.

He took a moment to try and compose himself; he stroked his hair back and adjusted the knobs on the side of his respirator. 

He stalked towards the slaves. Most of them cowered, but Lachus only cut their chains with his lightsaber, jerking his head impatiently towards the door. “Leave. Get out.” He snapped. 

They scattered. The room was empty. He panted, catching his breath. He looked around the room. His brain screamed at him. Told him that what he had done was disgusting. Despicable. But the rest of him was feeling some sick sort of pleasure. Boba Fett’s Force energy finally left, and Luke let out a groan as he sunk to the floor of the ruined building. He sat there for a few minutes, but he had better things to do. 

He walked towards the wall encasing his best friend. He tried to be gentle, but his anger was still raging beneath the surface like a particularly rough sandstorm. The carbonate dropped to the floor with a thud. 

He fumbled with the buttons on the side, smiling to himself when the melting process began. 

Han groaned, falling into Lachus’s arms. 

“W-Where am I...?” Han stuttered.

“Jabba’s palace,” Lachus said.

“M-my eyes! I can’t see!” 

“Shh,” Lachus soothed, almost annoyed. “It’s hibernation sickness. You’ll be fine.” 

“Who are you? Luke? Is that you, kid?” Han’s tone was hopeful. 

“Luke Skywalker is dead.” 

Han closed his mouth in shock. “Who are you, then?” 

“Darth Lachus. Here, stand up. I’m bringing you to the nearest town. I’ve got credits for you. Everything will be fine.” 

Lachus dragged Han to the city, unaware of the person following them.

\- - -

Han blinked slowly. He groaned. What happened? The hibernation sickness was finally fading. His eyesight was almost back to normal. There was... a man. He brought him here, paid for his hotel room and brought him food. Where was the guy now? His name was... Darth Lachus, was it? 

He rubbed his eyes, standing carefully. His vision swam before him. He gripped a side table for balance. 

He was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no ship, and no idea where the Rebellion was hiding out. What a real mess he was in. 

The best thing he could do would be to look for a familiar face. Perhaps Luke would be here. Tatooine was his home planet.

And then he felt a wave of upset. Lachus said Luke was dead. 

No. It wasn’t true. He would find the kid, and they’d go back to the Alliance. 

He opened the door to his hotel room, locking it behind him as he left. 

It felt like he walked forever to reach a local cantina, but it can’t have been more than a few minute walk. That hibernation sickness was really hurting him. 

There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned, teaching for his blaster, but he stopped short when he saw who it was. 

“Lando,” He all but growled. “Tell me why I shouldn’t take this blaster and shoot you right now.” 

Lando put his hands out in mock surrender. “Han, buddy, I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

Han rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me ‘buddy.’ Answer my question.” 

Lando inhaled deeply. “I started working for Jabba as a guard about a month ago. You’ve been in the carbonite for about that time. I was working on a plan to get you out. The Princess was very insistent about that.” Lando gestured behind Han, towards the cantina. 

And walking out the doors was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he saw her. 

His face broke out in a grin. “Leia.” 

She ran towards him, tears falling down her cheeks. He caught her, giving her the tightest embrace he could muster. 

And then they kissed. She broke apart first, to take a deep breath. And she sobbed.

“Hey, Leia! It’s okay! I’m alright! If I had known this would be the welcome I got, I would’ve let myself be taken by Jabba a long time ago!” 

She curled up her fists, hitting his chest weakly. “You stupid pirate.” 

A loud bark interrupted whatever meeting the two were having. Strong, fuzzy arms wrapped around him tightly. “Chewie! Buddy! I missed ya, old pal!” 

Chewie ruffled his hair, and Leia clutched him tightly. 

“How did I get out of there, Lando?” Han asked, turning towards the man. 

The group began to walk. Han didn’t know where, but Leia was following, so he was following too. 

Leia hiccuped. “Y-yeah. You told me to come, that Han had been rescued, but how?” 

Lando bit his lip. “It’s... a horrible story, really.”

“And...?” Han pressed. 

“I was standing guard. A man came in, demanding you be released. He said he would pay a ‘hefty sum.’ Jabba refused. It was a slaughter. The man killed everyone in there. I got out before it could happen, but all of them were dead. He had a strange mask on, and his eyes... when he turned to look at me, his eyes were...” 

Lando stopped, but continued after a few seconds of silence. “I don’t even know how to describe him. He was short, probably just a few inches taller than you, Leia. He was skinny, wearing a black cloak.”

Leia’s face drained of all color. “What did he use to kill everyone?” 

“I think they call ‘em lightsabers? Vader has one. The kid had one too, a horrible red color.” 

“Lachus.” She whispered. “Darth Lachus.” 

Han whipped his head. “Yes, he told me that was his name. Who is he?” 

Leia cleared her throat. “Third in command of the Empire and Darth Vader’s apprentice... and son.”

“What?! Why would he want to rescue  _ me _ ?” Han gasped. 

“No idea,” Leia said. “There’s the  _ Falcon _ . We can talk about Lachus more later.” 

“Wait. Darth Lachus told me one more thing. I don’t believe him. He told me Luke was dead. Kid wouldn’t  _ die _ , not yet.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Where is the kid, anyways?” 

Leia stopped in her tracks. “He...” her voice cracked. “He didn’t lie. Luke was killed.” 

It was like the galaxy stopped. “ _ What _ ? How?” 

Leia sniffled. She blinked quickly, tears falling from her eyes. “They tortured him to death. They sent us... they sent us clips every day..” 

Han stumbled forward. How had things come to this?

“Ah, Captain Solo!” A tinny voice said, interrupting his thoughts. “We have been waiting for you!” 

“Ah, Threepio.” Han sighed, not exactly excited to see the droid. 

A series of excited beeps followed, and R2 excitedly shot towards Han. “R2-D2! Mind your manners! Han Solo has just been rescued from Jabba the Hutt!” 

“So, Luke is really gone…?” Han asked, looking sadly at the droids. 

Artoo beeped sadly. 

“‘You’ve lost another Skywalker?’ What are you talking about?” Threepio asked. 

Instead of responding, Artoo played a holorecording. 

_ It was a woman and a man. She was beautiful, her dark hair falling down to her shoulders, looking up at the man lovingly. She looked obviously pregnant. _

_ The man was tall, and his hair was curly and long. He had a huge scar going through his eye.  _

_ “Anakin… I don’t know how much longer I can serve in the Senate, but with the war going on…” the woman said, softly.  _

_ “I know, Padmé. I know. We should find General Grevious soon, and then we can finish this war. Things will be alright.”  _

_ “But, the Jedi!”  _

_ A dark look crossed the man’s face. “Our baby is a blessing. We can worry about the Jedi when we get there. Nothing will happen to you. I’m sure of it.”  _

_ “Have you thought about any names?” The woman asked, a contemplative expression crossing her face. “I was thinking Luke for a boy-” _

_ There was an incessant beeping, coming from the man’s comlink. He took a step back from the woman and answered it.  _

_ “General Skywalker, we need you at the Temple right now.”  _

_ The man nodded his head. “Yes, Master Windu.”  _

The recording fizzled and ended. “Was that… Luke’s parents?” Leia asked incredulously. “What happened to them?” 

Artoo beeped sadly. Threepio translated. “Master Anakin just didn’t come back? He died on a lava planet? Oh! That’s horrible!” 

“And his mom?” Han pressed. 

Another set of melancholy beeps. “She died in childbirth? So she is Luke’s mother? Yes? That’s very sad.” 

Han wiped his eyes. It was finally beginning to sink in. 


	5. Cold Penumbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lachus finds Ahsoka, builds his new lightsabers, and a plan comes to fruition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early Update because I love you guys <3

Chapter 5 - Cold Penumbra 

His fingers typed in the code to open the door, muscle memory guiding him. 

The prisoner was sitting up, legs crossed, eyes closed. She looked serene. He almost wished he could feel serene like that. His emotions were everywhere. Guilt, mainly, for sentencing one of his own... no, someone who he used to look up to, to a fate like the one he had. 

But he shook his head. She was a member of the Rebellion. The Rebellion who left him to suffer. Who left him in Bespin, who didn’t come to rescue him even after they saw those holos of him getting tortured. 

His feelings were clear now. Ahsoka Tano deserved what was coming to her. 

Lachus took off the respirator. His damaged lungs could survive by themselves, for a little while, with effort on his part.

“It’s good to see you back in my custody, Ahsoka.” He wheezed, his voice damaged. 

Ahsoka’s eyes snapped open. She looked up at him, her face completely calm. “Who are you, really, Darth Lachus?” 

Lachus laughed, the effort burning his throat. “What, you don’t see the familial resemblance? A real pity, Snips.” 

Ahsoka’s eyes widened, her calm mask slipping. 

“My father did do a good job training you, I suppose. You were almost out of here, even with a hand missing. He sends his regards, by the way.”

“Skywalker? Commander Skywalker? You destroyed the Death Star! What are you doing here?” Her voice shook. 

Lachus’s nostrils flared. He clenched his fists, letting out a shaky breath. “Don’t you dare call me that again. It’s Darth Lachus.” 

“Why are you telling me this?”

Lachus almost admired how she stood her ground. Her eyes shone with determination, and he could only sense the slightest bit of fear in her. 

“You won’t live long enough to get the information back to the Rebellion. Besides, it seems to be the best way to get under your skin. It’s working, isn’t it?” 

She shuddered, but closed her eyes and resumed her meditation. 

“By the way, Fulcrum... I have a few questions for you.” 

This time, Lachus truly sensed a pang of fear and despair coming from the woman. He closed his eyes, almost reveling in the feeling. 

“I know you’re their spymaster. I know you go against my father’s inquisitors.” He opened his robe, grabbing one of her lightsabers, flipping it in his hands. “This has good craftsmanship… I’m thinking about taking these crystals for myself.” 

He put the sabers back in his cloak, and he repositioned the mask over his face. He opened a slot in the door. He grabbed a glass of water and a tray of food.

He almost regretted getting her food from the kitchens rather than food typical of prisoners. She was a lot more infuriating than he expected. But if he didn’t want his father’s wrath, he had to at least offer. 

“My father cares about you, you know. He would never say that out loud, but he asked me to spare you.” He said, breaking the silence. He put the tray in front of her. The food was the same that he had for lunch that day. 

“He told me to make you an offer.” 

“What does he want?” She said, her voice full of an emotion he couldn’t place. Grief, maybe? 

“You can take a place by his side. Become an advisor, or a Hand. You can take it, or you can earn your death sentence.”

Ahsoka grabbed the tray of food, picking it up. She threw it against the wall. “I will never join him.”

Lachus shrugged. “Better for me, then. I’ll be back... and you WILL tell me the locations of your spies and their cells.” He sent her a wink as he opened the door. 

He turned his back to her, grabbing the water cup from the floor with a pull from the Force. “You should’ve eaten that, at least.” He turned his face slightly, eyes locking onto her own. His voice was full of false pity. “I don’t know when I’ll remember to bring you food again.”

He threw the cup on the floor with a bit more force than necessary, the glass shattering, water pooling on the floor. 

He picked up the shards of glass, the smell of his blood in his real hand filling his nostrils. The metallic tang broke up the air. 

He waved his hand filled with the shards, blood dripping down his arms, on his robes now. “So you don’t get creative.” 

And he walked out the door, a smile on his face behind the mask.

\- - -

“How am I supposed to do this?” Lachus spat, angrily. Both of the small crystals were in his hands, clutched tightly. 

The Emperor sighed. “Take all the frustration you feel, and infuse it in the crystals. Force your will onto the will of the crystal… and bleed it.” 

Lachus grunted, hatred at the Emperor’s demeaning tone filling his veins. 

And then he was screaming. Pain, hatred, horror. The crystals were trying to refuse bending, and they were doing a good job. Every horrible memory Lachus had rose to the forefront of his mind, terrible pain accompanying them. 

He felt his eyes slide closed. 

Lachus let out a loud gasp of air, snapping his eyes open. He couldn’t hold the crystals another second. His hands opened without his will. Both crimson crystals clattered to the floor. 

“Very good, Lord Lachus!” The Emperor praised. 

Lachus looked up at him, so… angry with the man. “Thank you, my Master.” 

“You’ve got your hilts?” Vader asked. 

“Yes, father. I made them on my excursion.” 

Truthfully, he wanted to bring a piece of home with him back from Tatooine. So he made his saber hilt from the metals and sand there. But Vader hated Tatooine and the Emperor would’ve forbidden it, so Lachus didn’t want to tell them where he got the materials. 

The almost beige hilts curved to fit his hand, two saber hilts for two crystals. 

He put the crimson crystals in the hilts, shuddering with anticipation. The feeling of his lightsabers beneath his hands was different than either of his father’s. 

They whispered to him. They demanded bloodlust. 

He ignited them both at the same time. One was much shorter than the other, but not by a lot. 

A long blade… and a short one. Pleasure shuddered through his body as he pictured driving the short blade through his Master’s heart. 

“Well, Lord Vader, Lord Lachus. There is one of the most important rules of the Sith that you seem to have forgotten,” Palpatine croaked. “There must only be two. Kill the other, kill them with no mercy.” 

Lachus stared dumbly at the Emperor. “What?” 

“Kill your father, Lachus, and rise to the second in command!” Palpatine cackled. “Defend your place, Vader!” 

Lachus looked at his father’s mask. A tiny, almost imperceptible nod. And Lachus knew what that meant immediately. 

It was time, time for the Emperor to fall. 

Lachus swung his long lightsaber towards his father, easily parried by his father. 

Fighting with two sabers was different than he was used to. The training he had almost went out the window. 

The long saber twisted in his hand. Lachus jabbed with the short saber, aiming for Vader’s life support. 

Lachus heard something in his mind. His father’s voice.  _ Whoever kills the Emperor becomes Emperor. The Apprentice that kills the Master takes his place.  _

Lachus dodged out of the way, moving nimbly, jabbing towards his father again. 

Vader swung heavy-handedly. Lachus felt the heat on his face as he dodged backwards. 

Another swing and parry. It was like a twisted dance. Vader grabbed a tile from the wall, shooting it towards Lachus. He brought his short saber up to his face, cutting the tile down the middle before it could hit him. 

Lachus dodged out of the way of his father’s heavy handed swing, jumping nimbly over his head. 

And then he threw his short saber, the help of the Force guiding it to its mark. 

It made its place with a sickening hiss. 

The Emperor’s eyes were wide open, Lachus’s saber sticking from his abdomen. 

The saber retracted into the hilt with a hiss, clattering to the floor. 

Lachus and Vader walked towards the Emperor’s slumped form. 

Lachus laughed, the crazed sound ringing through the entire room. He coughed violently, but continued laughing. 

The Emperor’s chest rose and fell. Still breathing, he looked up at the pair, betrayal written in his disgusting golden eyes. 

“Oh, that feels good…” Lachus sighed. “I hate you. I hate you, you disgusting old man.” 

He felt a crackling electricity between his fingers. Almost giddily, he shot it towards the Emperor on the floor. He seized, groaning. 

“Every moment I’ve seen you, I’ve waited for this moment,” Lachus said, his voice quiet. “I’ve waited to watch you die on the floor in front of me.” 

He ignited the small saber again, spinning it in his hands. “I would prolong this,” he cooed, “but I don’t trust you to die quietly.”

The Emperor held out a hand as Lachus sunk his saber into his skull. 

He took it out with a shuddering breath. And then he smiled. “Lord Vader. Please inform everyone that the Emperor has passed away in his sleep and that Emperor Lachus will require a galaxy wide transmission.” 

“Yes, Emperor Lachus.” 

\- - - 

The Alliance was in a frenzy. Emergency news regarding the Empire was on every screen. 

Leia and Han were walking towards the main room, where most of the… admittedly smaller Alliance after Vader’s attack… was located. 

Mon Mothma stood on a raised platform. “Everyone, calm down! We do not know if this is bad news yet!” 

The room went quiet. Leia didn’t like it; a pin would drop and everyone could hear it. 

But the transmission started, the Imperial Anthem blaring out of the speakers. 

And then someone appeared. Everyone knew who it was at this point. Darth Lachus. His masked face was still covered, but his hood was down, exposing beautiful spun gold hair that matched his eyes. 

“Regretfully, I must inform all peoples scattered across the galaxy that our loved Emperor Palpatine has passed away in his sleep.” 

The room cheered, but Lachus’s weak voice continued to permeate the room. “Our Emperor’s final wish was that I, Darth Lachus, become his successor and take his mantle as Emperor of the First Galactic Empire!” 

Leia could hear cheers from Lachus’s transmission. Clearly, he was presenting this information in front of a crowd on Coruscant, and a rather large one at that. 

The room went quiet again. Leia’s stomach churned. She craned her neck to get a better look at the transmission. 

“Some of you may be wondering why that mantle didn’t fall to my father, Darth Vader. The Emperor kindly offered, but Lord Vader refused because he enjoys being the leader of the Imperial Military. Lord Vader’s job always comes first, in finding the traitors and crushing their petty rebellion!” 

More cheers and applause. “Thank you all!” 

Lachus stepped back, and the transmission ended.

\- - -

Lachus lounged on his new throne. Surprisingly, the power shift was very simple and easy. The Royal Guards needed to be replaced, but threatening his advisors worked just as well. 

He fumbled with his mask a moment, before he wheezed to one of new guards. “I request my father’s presence. And what we talked about earlier. I will request you to come in.” 

The crimson guard saluted. “Of course, your Excellency!” 

Lachus lounged sideways, legs resting over the armrests. Palpatine would’ve hated to see his throne used as such, which was why Lachus was doing it. Even in death, Lachus wanted to spite him. 

Vader entered the room. Mechanical breathing cut through his thoughts. “You requested me, Lachus?”

“Yes!” Lachus said happily, clapping his hands together excitedly. “Bring her in.” 

He took off his mask, a wide grin on his face as they brought in his prisoner. 

She looked much worse for wear than the last time Lachus had seen her; her hand was still missing, her face was pale and gaunt, her left lekku cut off at the tip. 

She glared at him, clearly trying to keep her dignity. “Well, father, I thought you might have wanted to see your… little friend before her execution.” 

Vader didn’t respond. He was just looking down at the form of his old Padawan. 

“Drop her, and leave us,” Lachus snapped to his guards. They saluted, dropping Ahsoka to the ground. She groaned, trying to stand up, but without the support of the guards, it was almost impossible. 

“I thought you may want to execute her yourself,” Lachus said with a smile. 

Giddily, he felt the pain coming from both the slumped form on the floor and the tall, masked man next to her. 

“Or, I may have misread the situation,” Lachus said, still smiling. He sighed. “I suppose I should just kill her myself. After playing with her a bit, first, of course.” 

A wave of rage from Vader. 

“Anakin…” Ahsoka groaned. “Please…” 

“Kill her. Kill her now.” 

“Lachus, I-!” 

“I didn’t give you permission to hesitate, father!” Lachus screamed, rage bubbling below the surface. “Kill this pitiful life form!” 

Vader ignited his saber, but after a few seconds, he dropped it. 

“Pathetic,” Lachus sneered. “I expected more from you, father.” 

Lachus raised his hand. Much like the Emperor had done, he felt himself invade her mind. He was distantly curious of what he may find, but that was not what he cared about. 

He ripped and tore and hacked at whatever he could get his hands on. 

Ahsoka screamed beneath him, grabbing her head. 

“Stop it, Lachus!” Vader cried. 

Lachus rolled his eyes, dropping his hand. “You had your shot to give her a painless death.” 

“Please, stop.” 

Lachus sneered, nose scrunching as he looked at his father. Disgusting. 

He raised his hand again. She rose up into the air.

A deafening crack. She fell to the floor, body slumped unnaturally, neck twisted. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve drawn a picture of how I’ve imagined Darth Lachus. If you’re interesting in seeing it, let me know, and I’ll add it next chapter!


	6. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke finds Leia, and Vader reflects on his choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update for you guys! I am not yet finished with chapter 7, and when I am I will update as soon as possible!

Chapter 6 - Sunrise

“Admiral,” Lachus said, looking out the viewport on the bridge of the  _ Executor _ . “I believe you have something for me?” 

Admiral Piett saluted. “Yes, your Majesty. We believe we have located the  _ Millenium Falcon _ in the Naboo System.” 

“You believe, or you know?” 

“We know.”

Lachus stroked a hand through his hair. “Naboo, huh?” He wondered quietly. “Set a course, and make the jump to lightspeed.” 

“Yes, your Majesty!” 

Lachus turned from the Admiral, looking at the blue blur of Hyperspace. 

“I’ll be in my chambers. Tractor beam the  _ Falcon _ in, and prepare a boarding party. Only prisoners. Let me know when we get to Naboo.” 

And Lachus turned, sweeping his robe behind him and leaving the bridge. 

Truthfully, Lachus’s mind was occupied. Of course, getting his revenge on Leia sounded delightful, but his thoughts were elsewhere. 

Stepping into his chambers, he locked the door behind him. Rustling through his drawers, he found what he was looking for. 

The pyramid was crimson, emitting a soft glow, and there was a thick veil of darkness around it. 

When he found he had access to Sidious’s belongings, he didn't expect to find something this precious. 

The Holocron was heavy in his hand, like the weight of all of the sins of the Sith was weighing it down. 

He hadn’t figured out how to open it yet; perhaps he should’ve waited to kill Sidious… 

Satisfaction spread through him. Sidious knew nothing this Holocron couldn’t tell him. Except… maybe how to open it. 

He furrowed his brow, sticking out his lower lip like a child. He was above temper tantrums, anyway. Darth Lachus, Emperor of the known Cosmos, was above pouting. 

In public, anyway. In private, truthfully, tears of frustration were beading in his eyes as he goaded the stupid pyramid to open. 

Angrily, he threw the Holocron across the room with the Force. 

He huffed, turning to the door when he heard a unique sound. It sounded almost like a lock opening, but… 

He turned back to the Holocron. 

A tall Holo, almost life size, was looking back at him. It was a Muun man, tall and lanky, hood over his face. 

“Greetings. I am Darth Plagueis.”

\- - -

“Why, exactly, are we going to Naboo, Leia?” Han asked, fiddling with a few buttons and levers as the descended. 

Chewie barked in agreement. 

Leia shot both of them an exasperated look. “I - I don’t know, to be honest. Something called me here. And you need to repair some things. Our heating is hardly working anyway!” She pulled her jacket tighter. “Space is cold, Han! And it is fairly close to Tatooine!” 

Han playfully rolled his eyes. “I know, Leia. I’m just teasing.” 

Chewie barked, and C-3P0 said, affronted, “Well-!”

Having Han back made Leia feel delighted. She could almost forget about the coronation of the new Emperor, she could almost forget about Luke’s senseless torture, and she could almost forget that the Alliance needed her. 

She looked up at him, smiling. He was listening intently to one of Chewie’s rants. She didn’t know most of the conversation, because she wasn’t fluent in shryiiwook, but it was very nice to her family back together. 

Her heart clenched painfully.  _ Almost _ , she reminded herself. Almost was the key word. Luke, who she thought of like an endearing brother, had been killed. 

She turned her head away from Han, looking down towards the beautiful planet of Naboo. Something was… pulling her here. She didn’t pretend to understand, but it was nice. The planet was rich in greenery and comfortably warm. 

They landed outside a small city. The architecture was gorgeous, Leia noted, and it made her feel nostalgic in some way. 

The five of them, including the droids, made their way down the  _ Falcon’ _ s ramp. Chewie growled, and Han responded. 

“I know, buddy. Could you make some minor repairs inside while I look for a heating unit?” 

Chewie barked a response. Leia smiled. Things were going to be alright. 

\- - - 

“Really, I know you’re attached to the  _ Falcon _ , but do you know how easy you are to find?” Lachus chuckled as his troopers dragged his found family out of their ship. 

Han glared at him, hands fastened tightly in binders. 

“Kill the Wookiee,” Lachus ordered. 

The troopers saluted. “Yes, your Majesty!”

Chewbacca roared, moving his hands as best he could while in binders, swinging at his troopers… but not even a wookiee could beat tens of his troops. Countless shots fired, and Chewbacca lay dead on the floor. 

Leia was screaming. Pathetic. Han was looking down, shock written clearly across his face. 

“Leave us, troopers. I want to talk to these… traitors myself.” 

The troopers left the room as Lachus circled predatorily around them. He ignited one of his lightsabers, bathing the whole hangar in a crimson light. 

He took off his mask with one hand, while their eyes were still trained on him. 

Both people gasped as soon as they saw who it was. Lachus stepped over Chewbacca’s body, studying their faces closely. A sharp glee filled his veins as he noticed their expressions; he soaked up their feelings of betrayal and fear. 

“I thought this would be harder, you know? Seeing you, killing Chewbacca. But it wasn’t hard.” A cruel smirk crossed his face. “It was easy. And I’m relishing every moment of it.” 

Leia was crying. “Why are you doing this, Luke? We thought you were dead!”

Lachus scowled, the expression inhuman on his face, scarred lips disappearing. “You abandoned me!” He screamed. “I was being held on Imperial Center for weeks, beaten half to death every day… my only solace was that you would find me. And you didn’t come!” 

Lachus raged, his expression manic. “I screamed for you… I begged you to come.  **_You got the transmissions_ ** !” 

“Luke, we couldn’t have come. You were on Coruscant, right under the Emperor’s nose. We couldn’t have come!” She sobbed. 

“My name isn’t Luke! You killed Luke, you left him to rot in that cell and he died! I am Emperor Lachus, the most powerful man in the galaxy!” 

“You’ve changed,” Han said, still not looking up from the broken form of Chewbacca. “Luke Skywalker could never be like you.” 

A loud mechanical breathing interrupted his tirade. “Father,” Lachus muttered, not looking behind him. “I am doing something right now.” 

Han finally looked up, wide eyed. 

“Lachus, please, reconsid-” His father pleaded, an uncomfortable undertone in his voice. 

“Reconsider what?” Lachus hissed, igniting and pointing his second lightsaber towards his father’s mask. “Reconsider  **_what_ ** .” 

“What you’re doing… Please, you don’t want to hurt them like that!” 

Lachus laughed, the sound echoing through the room, darkly. “What would you know? Oh… you regret strangling my mother on Mustafar? We all do what we must in wartime. Get. Over. It. She’s dead, as these traitors will soon be!” 

The room went silent, Vader’s respirator and Lachus’s shaky breathing the only sound. 

And then Vader swept Lachus’s feet from out under him with a strong kick of his legs. Lachus fell to the floor in a heap. “Traitor!” Lachus giggled, coughing violently. “Ah, my father is a traitor!”

Vader grabbed Han Solo’s and Princess Leia’s arms, dragging them towards the  _ Millennium Falcon _ . Lachus grunted, struggling to his feet, swinging one of his lightsabers wildly at the group. 

Leia screamed. At first, Lachus couldn’t tell what he had done, but then her calf fell to the floor with a plop, severed from her knee. Her other leg collapsed beneath her, held up only by Vader’s unbreakable grip. Lachus laughed wildly again, taking out her other leg with another swing of his saber. 

She finally fell to the floor. Vader didn’t stop for her. 

Han Solo yelled for her, but Vader dragged him quickly towards the  _ Falcon _ . Troops rushed in the room, firing wildly, but Lachus interrupted, raising his hand. 

The ramp on the ship closed. 

“Stop. Let them leave,” He said, contemplatively with a tilt of his head. “Turn off the tractor beam, and let them leave. I have what I want.” 

Lachus watched as the  _ Falcon _ blasted off into Hyperspace. 

He turned towards his guest on the floor. Her eyes were glassy, filled with unshed tears, and her fists were tightly clenched. “You’re a monster.” 

Lachus kneeled down close to her, resting on the balls of his feet. He grabbed her chin, studying her face closely. “I know.” 

A contemplative look crossed his face. And then he smiled wickedly. “Take her to the chambers next to mine, and treat her for whatever wounds she has. Don’t give her new legs. Don’t let her leave your sight.” 

Lachus tilted his head, looking towards her, golden eyes flashing dangerously. “If you manage to get out of here, I will kill every man who failed to keep you here.” 

Leia looked at him, horrified. 

“Just a thought,” he said, smirking. 

\- - - 

“What did you do to him?” Han sobbed. “He was such a good kid, why is he so… horrible?” 

Vader sighed. “The Dark Side… it… changes you. Things you never thought you’d do, you’ve already done.” 

“Like what? Like what the kid said about you strangling his mom?” 

Vader didn’t answer for a few seconds. Guilt, old guilt, washed over him. “I - I didn’t mean to.” His voice cracked, the sound strange through the mask. “I was so upset, so enraged… it was like I was watching myself through a holoprojector. I did it, I hurt her…” 

“You’re Anakin, right…? That was your name?” 

Vader nodded, slowly. “Anakin… it’s been so long since someone has called me Anakin. How did you know?” 

A loud beeping interrupted his thoughts. He could recognize the sound anywhere. He turned his head, and sure enough, there he was. The white and blue domed astrodroid. 

“R2-D2. How did you get your hands on my astromech?” 

Han Solo shrugged, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Luke found him. On Tatooine. He belonged to Leia and Bail before that, I think.” 

There was the sound of a holoprojection. 

And his heart shattered.  _ His angel… dressed in white lace, long hair hidden.  _

_ He was in dark robes, his hair short with a padawan braid.  _

_ “Anakin. I love you,” his angel said, softly.  _

_ “I love you too, Padmé.”  _ Listening to his voice made him shudder. It was like being submerged in ice cold water. He was chilled, disoriented, unable to move a muscle. 

_ “You may now kiss your bride.”  _

_ Anakin walked towards his angel. He grabbed the side of her face.  _

“Stop!” He cried. “Please, stop!” 

The holo flickered as  _ Anakin’s lips touched his angel’s _ . The holo ended with a soft sound. Vader…  _ or was he Anakin?  _ sunk to his knees. 

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to…” 

He cried. For the first time in decades, tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. They dribbled behind his mask. 

A hand reached out to touch his shoulder, but stopped halfway. Han Solo was hesitating.  _ Anakin _ didn’t blame him.  _ Anakin  _ had turned into a monster more machine than man. 

“I’ve doomed my son. I’ve ruined him,” Anakin sobbed. “I just wanted to be with the last remnant of my angel. And I’ve doomed him.” 

There was the sound of another holo flickering. 

_ Luke and Han were walking towards the Princess. She was trying to maintain a serious facade, but she was failing miserably, a half smile gracing her face.  _

_ Luke smiled at the Princess, eyes alight with happiness, a proud smile gracing his features.  _

Anakin’s heart broke. He ruined him. Seeing his unscarred, boyish, innocent face was a slap in the face. 

_ The Princess grabbed a medal, hanging it around Han’s neck. He winked at her. And then Leia gave one to Luke. _

_ He smiled, looking back and forth at countless people as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. And then his eyes landed on Artoo, who was obviously recording.  _ He looked straight into Anakin’s eyes. _ Luke was laughing silently, a wide grin across his face.  _

The recording flickered and ended. 

Vader brought his gloved hands to his mask. 

And then another projection. Artoo seemed happy to torture him so. 

Anakin opened his eyes slowly, a fresh wave of grief overloading his senses. 

_ There she was; 14 year old Ashoka Tano striding down from a ship. Obi-Wan’s voice rang through the speakers. “A youngling?” _

Hearing the voice of his old Master, his brother and father who he cut down on the Death Star… 

_ Anakin spoke too. “And who are you supposed to be?” _

_ Her voice was high pitched, still young. “I’m Ahsoka. Master Yoda sent me. I was told to tell both of you that you must get back to the Jedi Temple immediately. There’s an emergency.” _

_ “Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Anakin said, irritably. “But we’re in a bit of an emergency right here.”  _

_ Snips glared at him, and the recording finished.  _

The Ahsoka he had seen in Lachus’s throne room was nothing like this bouncy Padawan. The defeated, broken woman, murdered in cold blood by her father figure’s own son. 

\- - - 

Leia was confused. Luke - no, Lachus - was treating her wounds. He gently placed a bacta patch over a large cut on her forehead. 

“Why are you doing this, Lu-Lachus?” 

He looked at her contemplatively with his golden eyes. The expression on his face made her shiver. “I want you to be in top condition before I torture you.” 

“Lachus, you don’t have to do this. I didn’t want to leave you there. I never did,” Leia murmured. 

“I’ll bet you just begged and pleaded Ackbar and Mothma and Madine, didn’t you?” Lachus laughed, coughing. “I bet you were oh-so insistent.” 

He blotted her head with a wet rag. 

“I know you, Luke, and I know there is good in you. Why else would you have me treated?” 

Lachus actually stopped his hand, faltering for a moment. “You don’t understand,” he snapped after a moment of silence. 

“Then help me understand, Luke!” Leia cried. 

“I’m treating you because… because…” he stopped.

_ What, Luke? Why?  _ Leia thought.  _ Is it because there is good in you? _

He smiled. He almost looked like the boy who rescued her on the Death Star. Or, he would’ve… if his eyes were the right color and his face wasn’t scarred. 

His cheerful, genuine expression gave her hope. 

“You know,” he croaked. “I was thinking about reestablishing the Senate. Call it the Imperial Senate.”

“R-really?” 

“You could get your seat back.” He paused, but then burst into laughter, coughing violently. “Just kidding. You need a planet for that!” 

Leia felt more tears well up in her eyes. 

“Princess Leia Organa?” He giggled. “Your family would need to be royalty! You would need people! Oh… wait.” 

He held his chest as he laughed, wiping his eyes gleefully. “Get it? Because your planet was blown up with your entire family on it!” 

“You’re vile, you know that?” Leia snapped. 

“I know, I know. Hey, I gotta get back to ruling the galaxy. I’ll send someone in to take care of you,” Lachus said as he repositioned the mask over his face. “I’ve gotta tell you, truly, that I am sorry about the destruction of Alderaan. A needless waste. Perhaps I should thank Tarkin, though. It was a good source of agony from you. I can feel it.”

And he opened the door, shutting loudly behind him. Leia hid her hands in her face as she sobbed. 

  
  
  



	7. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys in the dark for a week. I've decided I have one more chapter to go with this series, so you'll have to wait just a little bit longer for the finale. I hope you enjoy this! All comments and feedback are really appreciated. If you see any errors, let me know. I don't have a beta for this work.

Chapter 7 - Sunset

Darth Lachus wiped his sweaty hands on his robes. The Dagobah system was quickly approaching, and nervousness could not begin to describe how he felt at confronting Yoda. 

A Jedi Master against a fledgling Sith who had only months of training. This would not end well. 

Lachus gripped the controls of his ship tighter. No. He couldn’t afford to think that way. He was the Emperor. 

A Sith Lord against a frankly unhinged old man. 

Touching down much more gently due to experience, Lachus jumped out of his TIE and began walking towards Yoda’s hut, both of his lightsabers in his hands. 

He opened the door, expecting an assault, lightsabers alight. 

But nothing. The fire was roaring and the hut looked lived in, but no one was there, coming to greet him. 

Turning his head, Lachus turned to look around the room. And there he was. Immediately, Lachus knew why he couldn’t sense him. His Force presence was fading. He was dying.

Master Yoda looked so pitiful like this. Small, curled up body resting on his bed, ears drooping. An uncomfortable pang made its way to Lachus’s heart, but he swept it away. Yoda must die. The last of the Jedi, dying. 

It really should’ve been a triumphant moment for the Sith Order, but Lachus didn’t feel triumphant. He didn’t feel sad, either, but… 

“Ah… ” Yoda wheezed, looking his hazel eyes up at Lachus. “Luke Skywalker.”

Lachus narrowed his eyes. “Surely you must know that Luke Skywalker is dead?”

  
“Know, I did not. Suspected, I did. In balance, the Force was not,” Yoda coughed. 

“I want to kill you myself,” Lachus sneered. “Luckily, it seems the natural order of things that the Jedi should die out.” 

“The last of the Jedi… I will not be. Another Skywalker… lives.”    
  
Enraged, Lachus spoke, looking away from the slumped form of Yoda and into the fire. “My father? He is weak. Darth Vader may be able to stand up to me, but not Anakin Skywalker. He is a traitor.”

“There… ” Yoda rasped, “is… another… ”

“Stop speaking!” Lachus roared. 

“Stop you… she will.”

And suddenly it clicked. “Leia,” Lachus whispered. 

He turned towards Yoda, but there was nothing there. Only dirty, brown robes and the roaring fire were proof that someone lived here.

\- - - 

Leia was laying on a cot. Truthfully, she wanted to get up and pace, maybe walk around for a little while, but…

She looked down at her missing legs, severed at the knee on the left and slightly higher on the right. They were delicately bandaged by Lachus, wrapped gently.

She couldn’t get a read on the man. It was a confusing experience. She wasn’t sure what he was attempting to do.

So far, nothing had come of his promised torture. She was in little pain, due to the painkillers in her system, but she had to be aware that Lachus would be plotting something. This brief vacation would be just that, a respite from whatever he had planned for her.

In truth, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She would take a quick death over torture, anyways, but hope of rescue kept her going.

It was all she had, hope. 

Looking down and flexing her fingers, she didn’t notice when the door first opened. But she could feel his presence as he stepped into the room.

  
“I have an… ultimatum for you, Leia,” the voice that was so familiar yet so horrifically different rasped.

She turned to look at him. His blonde hair was greasy, stringy, looking like he hadn’t brushed it in days. His scarred face was looking discolored and slightly green. His eyes were still warm, butterscotch colored, but the dark purple, almost black, bags under his eyes broke that illusion. 

He reached for his mask and tugged it off. She briefly noticed that his hands were trembling. 

“Whatever your deal is, Lachus, I won’t take it,” Leia asserted haughtily, holding her chin high, trying to exude royal confidence.

“What do you know of your parents?” He asked, golden eyes softening as he sat down on the bed with her, where her legs would normally be.

Startled, and certainly not expecting the question, Leia looked at him strangely. “My mother was named Breha and my father Bail.”

Lachus rolled his eyes as he coughed. “No, your birth parents.”

Leia responded suspiciously. “I don’t know anything about them. My parents didn’t tell me anything.”

Lachus ran a hand through his hair. “I took the liberty of doing a DNA test so we wouldn’t have to wait.” A twisted smile crossed his face. “Leia Organa, you are my twin sister, daughter of Padmé Amidala-Naberrie and Anakin Skywalker.”

Stunned, she looked him in his face. He held out a datapad, and sure enough, plainly written, twins. Familial relationship.

“T-this has been tampered with!” She fretted. “It cannot be true!”

“Trust me,” Lachus scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I wish it wasn’t. Either you join me and we rule the galaxy, or I go through my original plan and kill you. You join me or you die, Leia.”

She stared at him, open mouthed and shocked. “W-what?”

“You heard me. Join me as my apprentice, or die.” 

His eyes were so happy, so genuine. 

“No!” Leia cried. “I can’t, Luke, you know that!”

In an instant, the look in his eyes changed. Deep rooted _ hatred  _ filled his face, his eyes staring at Leia in complete contempt. “Leia… what am I supposed to do with you?” He sighed. “Someone with your potential can’t just be let out of my sight, but…” 

His eyes lit up. “Never mind. I’ve got something figured out.”

Leia didn’t like the sound of that at all.

\- - - 

“Lord Vader,” Mon Mothma said stiffly, looking up at Vader with little fear in her face. “It is brave of you to show up here.”

Anakin shuffled awkwardly. For the first time in a long while, he felt out of place and embarrassed. 

“Mon Mothma,” he greeted stiffly. “I… I am here to help.” 

Mothma raised her eyebrows. They disappeared into her hairline. 

Anakin continued to speak. “My son has been… corrupted. The Dark Side of the Force clouds him. He has Princess Leia Organa in his custody.” 

“Darth Lachus? What does he want with Leia?” Mon Mothma asked, brow creasing. 

Han stepped from the  _ Millenium Falcon _ , Threepio and Artoo following. 

Anakin watched as Lando Calrissian approached Solo, patting him on his back. “Welcome back, buddy! Where’s Chewie?” 

Silence, broken only by the sound of Anakin’s respirator. 

Han looked up, eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Killed. Luke did it. How could he have done it?” 

“Luke Skywalker?” Mon Mothma asked, rushing towards Han. 

“Darth Lachus,” Han corrected with a sniffle. “Luke is gone.” 

All eyes turned towards Anakin. 

“General Skywalker? Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader?” Mon asked. 

Anakin shuffled awkwardly. “Was,” he corrected. “Was Darth Vader. It is a Sith title. I have no doubt it has been taken from me.” 

Hatred, contempt. Strong, deep emotions were coming from the woman across from him, intense anger coloring her features. 

“You killed all of the Jedi! Your family, your friends! The children!” She screamed. “You killed General Kenobi!” 

Anakin flinched under her intense gaze. “I know,” he said as quietly as he could. “I knew it was wrong, and yet…” he didn’t finish the sentence. 

“Why?” She asked, voice cracking and lip wobbling. “Why did you do it?” 

“Padmé,” Anakin whispered as quietly as he could. The vocoder picked it up, the sound barely a murmur. “I needed to gain strength in the Force. The Emperor told me I could save her. By the time of her death, it was too late for me.” 

“And what about the suit?” Lando asked, gesturing wildly to Anakin’s form. 

“Obi-Wan,” he mumbled, the sound still hardly noticeable. “Left me to die on the lava shores of Mustafar.” 

Surprisingly, Anakin felt no resentment. Instead, pride. Obi-Wan had bested him, tried to bring him back from the path he knew he shouldn’t have taken… 

“Please,” he pleaded, voice gaining strength, but still cracking. “Please help me save my son.” 

Mon Mothma’s eyes softened. “What’s the catch? You keep your Empire?” 

“I can’t run an Empire. I don’t want to anymore. Padmé could… but she… she would want democracy to reign. You can form a new Republic. I will help you… give you all my support… but please help me save my son.” 

Anakin held out a shaky hand. Mon Mothma eyed it, before she took it, firmly shaking it. “Help us save Leia,” Mothma said, determined. 

\- - - 

Darth Lachus paced in Leia’s chambers. She huffed at him, a disgruntled sound escaping her. “Why are you so anxious? What are you waiting for?”

Lachus turned to look at her. Surely she couldn’t be that dense. “I’m waiting for your escape crew. I sense… Han Solo, our father, Mon Mothma, and Lando Calrissian.”

He found their presence in the Force, close, making their way expertly through the ship, no alarms triggered. Of course. It was his Father’s flagship, after all. He must know how to get in and out undetected. 

Lachus ignited his long saber. He prowled, not taking his eyes from the door. A smirk twisted on his face. He reached out and took off his mask, placing it on a nearby table. 

“They’re coming,” he sang, tilting his head towards Leia, not moving his eyes from the door. 

Sure enough, the door opened with a hiss. 

Vader - er, Anakin - was standing at the front of the group, hand on his lightsaber at his belt. The rest of the group was dressed in stormtrooper armor. Lachus singled out Han easily, his presence detectable. 

“Aren’t you all a little too rebellious to be stormtroopers?” He quipped, grabbing his second lightsaber. He gave it a quick spin in the air before igniting it. Han took off his helmet, tossing it to the floor, before he ran towards Leia and held her close. He planted a kiss on her nose. 

No one moved for a second. “It’s not too late, Leia. The offer still stands,” Lachus said, turning to smile at her. 

“It’s not too late for you either, my son,” Anakin pleaded. “You can come with us. You can come back to us.” 

Lando adjusted the grip on his blaster. It wasn’t that Lachus hadn’t noticed before, but it was the first time he could see that they actually could hurt him. 

With a lazy flick of his hand, Lachus brought the blasters of Mon and Lando towards him, slicing them in the air. They fell to the ground, sizzling. 

“So!” Lachus grinned. “My guess is that you’re here for my sister.”

Anakin stumbled, flinching back. “What? Sister?” 

Lachus let out a hollow laugh. “Yes! Leia Organa - or should I say Leia Skywalker - is my twin sister. Just figured it out. Who does she look like, Father?” 

No one answered. “I asked you a question.” Lachus snarled. 

“Padmé,” Mothma faltered. “She looks just like Padmé. And you look like your father, Commander Skywalker.” 

“Emperor Lachus,” he corrected, scoffing. “Luke Skywalker was weak.” 

“Luke Skywalker was my best friend,” Han barked. 

Lachus turned back to face him, shocked. But then he laughed. The sound echoed through the empty room. 

Violently, he coughed, trying to catch his breath. His lungs burned.

“You were Luke Skywalker’s best friend. That’s why I got you out of the carbonite, Han. You didn’t know about the Emperor, or torture, or anything. You can come with me. I need good pilots. I could give you whatever you want.” Lachus turned off one of his sabers and held out his gloved hand, the one his father cut off. “Please.” 

Han’s eyes were wide. 

“Let go, Han, and grab my hand.” 

“I-I can’t, Luke,” Han stuttered. 

Lachus sighed, grabbing the blaster out of Han’s hand with the Force.

Han grabbed for it, but he didn’t reach it in time. 

Lachus grabbed the blaster, gripping it tightly. He turned his head, adjusting his aim, pulling the trigger. 

It met its mark, quickly and easily. Leia slumped against Han, the blaster shot in between her eyes smoking. 


	8. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m alive! A bit of a note on why this took so long - my life got super crazy when the first term of school ended. College classes have been really hard for me, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me! Again, these last two chapters were shorter because they were supposed to be 1 chapter altogether, but tbh?? i really like the pacing the two chapters give.

Chapter 8 - The End

Anakin looked at his son in stunned silence, eyes trailing over to his _daughter_ . His _daughter_ , light snuffed out in a second, a blaster shot silencing her and removing her presence that was so much like _her_ out of the galaxy in a second.   
  
Han Solo let out a startled, horrified scream, cradling the body, wiping her face gently as if a few warm touches could get her to wake up. Her glassy eyes looked up at the ceiling, unseeing. 

Lando Calrissian and Mon Mothma turned to Darth Lachus. Mon was crying, he could feel, and Lando was shocked into stunned silence. 

“Well,” Darth Lachus smiled, as if he hadn’t just murdered his _sister_ in cold blood. “I want you all **_off of my ship_ **.” 

His voice was evil, horrible, cold. 

“Luke,” he pleaded again, “Please, just…” He trailed off. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say to his son. There was so much to say. “How could you?” He settled on. 

Lachus scoffed. “As if you haven’t done worse. Really, I should be thanked. Her death was much more merciful than I planned for it to be.” 

Anakin looked over to the slumped form of _his daughter_ again, her glassy brown eyes the exact same shade and color of his angel’s. Han Solo was still sobbing, clutching her body closely to his chest. 

Lachus spun his saber in his hand. “You must’ve heard me. **_Get off of my ship_ **!” 

Mon Mothma rushed forward. “You will be brought before the leaders of the Rebel Alliance to Restore the Republic for your crimes!” She cried. 

Lachus laughed, swinging his saber forward with much more force than necessary, and Mon Mothma’s head was rolling across the floor. 

“I could pick you all off, one by one, like flies,” he mumbled, almost dreamily. “But unfortunately, I don't have the time to spare.” 

He lunged forward towards Anakin, sabers alight. This was no spar like the one before the Emperor, this was real. And Anakin was afraid. 

“Get off the ship!” He yelled towards Calrissian and Solo. 

Calrissian reached forward, dragging Solo by the scruff away from the dead form of the Princess. 

“We can’t leave her here!” Solo howled. 

“We need to _go_ , Han!” Calrissian hissed through closed teeth. 

Anakin brought up his saber, trying his best to remember Obi-Wan’s earliest teachings, fighting for defense rather than attack. He could not hurt Luke, not even when he had the eyes of a Sith. 

Lachus snarled inhumanly as he fought ferociously with Anakin. Anakin’s bulk from the suit weighed him down, while Lachus moved as light as a feather, nimbly weaving in and out of parries. 

Lachus grabbed a chair from the floor with the Force, flinging it towards Anakin with all his might. 

It splintered on his body. He grunted, falling backward. Solo and Calrissian were out of the room now, meaning his distraction had worked. Anakin stumbled behind them, trying to slow Lachus’s deadly approach. 

“Father!” he called in a jovial tone. “We weren’t finished yet!” 

\- - - 

The day had been a blur for Han. The memories had all been jumbled up, but one thing was for certain. He had held the rapidly cooling body of Leia in his arms. The body he couldn’t even take with him for a proper funeral.

Lando was piloting the _Falcon_. Han wouldn’t be much use. He stared blankly ahead. His thoughts wouldn’t form. 

The two droids were chatting idly behind him, and Lando was deeply concerned about something, mumbling to himself on and off. Han was surprised they had made it off of the _Executor_ at all. It must’ve been Vader’s doing, right? 

Leia… oh, Leia. Her warmth was snuffed out of the galaxy permanently. Her twin brother… 

Han bit back a sob, but he was sure he was crying. His cheeks were warm and salty. But as they jumped into Hyperspace, Han finally noticed the lack of the giant shadow behind them. 

“Where’s V-Vader?” He hiccuped. 

“Dead.” 

“ **_W-What???_ **” Han blubbered incredulously. 

Lando sighed. “Skywalker - er, Lachus - cut him down. Vader kept repeating something about how he couldn’t hurt the kid.” 

Han was stunned. The Luke he knew _never ever_ would’ve hurt his own father, not even a monster of a father like Darth Vader. Family was everything to Luke, and he had killed the last two remaining members of it within an hour. 

“You’re sure that’s the same person?” Lando asked, tight lipped. 

“No,” Han whispered. “Luke Skywalker is gone. They’re not the same person.” 

Lando turned back to the viewport of the ship. 

-

The haphazardly thrown together Rebel Base on Arbra, the Haven Base, was in shambles. 

General Madine and Admiral Ackbar greeted them like a dog greets their owner after a long day at work, but their faces fell when they noticed the ship was empty save the four beings coming out of it. 

Once upon a time, Chewie, Luke and Leia might’ve been with him, as he went to greet the Rebel Leaders with a roguish grin after an unsanctioned mission. 

But now all three of them were dead. Killed by the same person. 

He couldn’t hold in his tears. Truly, Solo was a befitting name. Han was cursed living a Solo existence. 

“They’re gone,” he sniffled. “Leia, Chewie, Luke, Mon, Vader. All of them.” 

The room went silent. The newly established Haven Base was small enough that everyone could hear the words he spoke. 

“Mon Mothma is dead?” Madine asked in a hushed tone. “How?” 

“Lachus,” Lando vacillated, jumping into the conversation. 

“He killed them all,” Han warbled. 

\- - - 

The tracking beacon on the _Millenium Falcon_ had done its job well. Lachus only had to wait a a few hours for the ship to drop out of Hyperspace, and he would have the location of some sort of base, likely the main one, due to Mothma’s death. 

He paced his newly cleaned chambers anxiously, the Holocron of Darth Plagueis still speaking. 

“Have you thought of an apprentice for your own, Darth Lachus?” The hooded Muun asked. 

“I have too much to learn. And I am not ready to think about an apprentice betraying me some day.” 

“It is your duty to pass on the art of the Sith, so that our legacy may rule the galaxy for millennia!” 

“I do **_not_ ** want any more plotting and spying in my ranks!” Lachus screamed, turning on the Holocron. “You will learn your place, Plageuis! I am the Emperor, I am the ruler! You are **_nothing_ **!”

“Of course, my Lord,” Plagueis said, a polite pretense masking the true hatred in his tone. 

“No one else will betray me!” Lachus coughed, a manic smile on his face. “They will all learn to worship the ground beneath my feet and bow to me!” 

An insistent beeping from his comlink interrupted his tirade, which could only mean one thing. Lachus closed the Holocron, grabbed his mask, and headed to the bridge. 

“Report, Admiral,” he snapped, turning towards Piett. 

“We’ve located them, your Majesty. They’re on Arbra.” 

“Set a course and prepare to make the jump. Comm our _friends_ above Endor and tell them I need them to make their way to the same coordinates.” 

“Of course, your Majesty,” Piett saluted. 

A warm coil of darkness reared its ugly head beneath the surface of Lachus’s composed facade. 

_Arbra_. He wondered if he would have been there had he made the wrong choice all those months ago. 

Lachus turned to the viewport and watched as the stars faded into the blur of lightspeed. 

-

All was quiet when SSD Executor made its way out of Hyperspace in the atmosphere of Arbra. Lachus wondered what the people below must be thinking. 

No matter. It would all be over for them anyway. The half completed DSII had made its way out of Hyperspace as well, above the planet. 

This time, there would be no Force Sensitive to blow up Palpatine’s Masterpiece. There would be no pathetic Jedi whispering in the ear of a farm boy. There would only be the Empire, and Arbra would be no more.

“Get us the minimum safe distance, Admiral Piett. I want to watch.” 

Anticipation bubbled in Lachus’s gut as he watched Arbra fade into the distance, close enough that no one on board would be sucked in by the vortex or embedded with wreckage and shrapnel. 

The explosion lit up the sky like fireworks on Imperial Center. Arbra went up in flames, and the majority of the Alliance with it. 

It was over. He had _won_.

But still, a tiny chorus of voices in the back of his head wondered. **_Had_** _he won?_ _Was this what you wanted, Luke?_

They sounded suspiciously like Ben, Leia, and his father. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is over! This is the first multi chapter fic I’ve ever finished on the internet, and I want you guys to let me know what you thought! I’m usually not a big fan of endings that are totally hopeless and sad, but I couldn’t resist this time. Thank you so much for your support on this fic! i love y’all


End file.
